


Don't Be a Baby Scott! You're Hot too.

by Thatisanotoreality



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Human Derek Hale, Humor, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatisanotoreality/pseuds/Thatisanotoreality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d tried to ignore Stiles, thinking it was a matter of “ignore it and it will go away.” But it had been well over fifteen minutes since the man had gotten out of the shower, and he was still walking Derek’s living room in a towel.<br/>Sighing, Derek let his eyes roam the sexy form of his friend. Maybe letting his attention linger a little too long on sleek muscles that disappeared beneath the black terrycloth.<br/>“What are you doing?” he all but moaned, when Stiles made another circle around the couch on some seemingly pointless task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Be a Baby Scott! You're Hot too.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is officially my first fanfic. Hmm...let's see how it goes, shall we?

Prologue

Nine years ago.

Derek looked up at the star filled sky, barely even noticing the beauty of the full, clear moon. His stomach was in knots and his feet were simultaneously sweating and freezing, but he’d decided tonight was the night and he wasn’t going to chicken out now. “I need to tell you something, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

His best friend Scott rolled his head on the mat of the trampoline they were lying on to look at Derek in the light of the huge full moon, his eyebrows rose in question. “I don’t feel comfortable making that promise. We both know I’m high-strung.”

“That’s true.” There was a huge bounce and then several smaller ones as Scott’s stepbrother joined them on the makeshift hammock. His long lean body slid in next to Derek’s making the skin on his right arm where they touched tingle and then flood with goosebumps.

_Jeez!_

Stiles, Derek and Scott were all seniors at Beacon Hills High, and even though Scott had claimed the spot of Derek’s best friend since they started Pre-K together thirteen years ago, when Stiles’ and Scott met in the forth grade, they’d become an inseparable trio. Then when Stile’s dad had married Scott’s mom when they were sophomores, he other two boys had become brothers.

There had been a little jealousy on Derek’s part in the beginning, because they got to spend nearly every minute of every day with each other, but he learned very quickly, they had no intention of leaving him out. He adored them both.

Maybe he adored Stiles in a way that was a bit…abnormal for a best friend, but he would just keep that info to himself.

“Go away,” Scott grumbled from his left. “Derek was about to tell me something super important.”

Derek smiled at the way his friend sounded like a self-important five year-old.

“No,” Stiles said stubbornly. “Derek loves me as much as he loves you.” The voice was confident, but his eyes when they found Derek’s weren’t quite as sure. “ _Do_ you care if I stay?”

He didn’t. His connection with his best friend’s stepbrother was probably a bit inappropriate and definitely one-sided, but he adored this man. Couldn’t imagine keeping a secret of this magnitude from him.

“No. But you can’t freak either.” Derek laughed and rolled his eyes when Stiles snorted disbelievingly. “Right. Klyde doesn’t freak. Klyde stays cool in the face of drama.”

Klyde was short for kaleidoscope. It was a perfect description for the colorful, yet contained personality of the beautiful man.

“Alright,” Scott said, pulling Derek’s attention from the gut hollowing whiskey-brown eyes that, more often than not, drew him by simply meeting his. “What is it?”

And just like that, his stomach knotted with nervousness.

Taking a deep breath to weigh down the fluttering butterflies in his stomach, Derek turned his attention to the moon. “I’m gay.”

Silence greeted him from his left, but there was a small gasp from his right. He wasn’t sure what either meant and as he sat there, patiently waiting, his heart pounded almost painfully.

Finally, from the direction of the gasp, Stiles whispered, “ _Really_ gay?”

Derek smiled slightly as the ice in his stomach started to melt. There was no judgment in the tone of that strange question. Just surprised curiosity. “Yeah, I’m pretty freaking gay.”

He turned to find his favorite face staring at him with wide beautiful eyes, a small smile curling one side of his sensual mouth. “So…you’d rather see _me_ naked than Lydia Martin?”

His hormone driven penis surged at _that_ suggestion and he gave a surprised laugh, again enjoying the ridiculousness of Stiles’ humor. “Uh—“

“Are you in love with me?” That ludicrous question was asked in all seriousness from the moron on his left, making more laughter bubble to the surface. “Oh man! I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’m super straight.”

At this point, Derek was laughing so hard he was crying. “No! No! I’m not in love with you.”

Stiles had leaned up on his elbow to look at his brother over Derek. “Are you kidding me, Scott?”

“What?” Scott asked, looking irritated.

“Why on _earth_ would he be in love with you?”

His best friend jerked beside him, leaning up on his elbow also to face his brother. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re a spaz,” Stiles and Derek somehow managed to say at the same time.

Scott’s head snapped back like someone flicked him in the forehead. “I am not!”

Stiles’ expression was wry disbelief. “Your best friend just told you he was gay and your first thought was that he must be in love with you.”

“It was a reasonable conclusion,” He defended, drawing his shoulders back as he came to a sitting position. “I’m hot!”

And he was. At seventeen, Scott was built well, with musculature not much different than Derek’s. Not huge, but definitely notable in a football running back type way. He wasn’t all that tall, but his dark, exotic looks were getting him noticed more and more by the girls at their school.

“You’re not _that_ hot,” Stiles said as Derek looked back and forth between the brothers as they argued, thinking how blessed he was to have friends like these. Friends who were too caught up in fighting with each other to give a shit about his sexuality.

“I’m hotter than _you_! Everybody loves my abs,” Scott griped, reaching out and shoving his brother’s shoulder.

“All two of them? And you couldn’t be hotter than me if I set you on fire.” Stiles reached out and palmed his stepbrother’s face, shoving him back against the trampoline.

If a wrestling match broke out, there was absolutely no doubt in Derek’s mind that Stiles would win. At three inches taller than Scott and two inches taller than Derek the younger guy wasn’t quite as bulky as his brother and not as strong, but kid was wiry. Scott and Derek had stopped winning wrestling matches over a year ago.

Another unnecessary fact: Derek secretly perved hardcore on that lean body Stiles never seemed to have properly clothed. And the moles. _The moles!_ He wanted to kiss each and every one of the multitudes scattered all over the guy’s body and face. So yeah, Stiles was hotter. At least in Derek’s mind.

Derek continued to watch the two brothers fight, until Scott started to crawl over top of him to get to and possibly strangle his brother. Grabbing them both around the neck and pulling them down next to him on the trampoline, Derek laughed and hugged the two most amazing people in his life.

Chapter One

Thursday 5:47 PM

Derek rolled his eyes, silently laughing at the arguing voices of Scott and his beautiful wife, Allyson, as they came through the phone. He climbed the stairs to his apartment, adjusting the paper bag in his arms as he dug in his pocket for his keys.

He’d ditch the happy couple if he didn’t absolutely adore them. They’d been married for a little over a year and the dorky trio that had once consisted of him and the two brothers, now had a new, wonderful, female member.

Of course, since Stiles was out of the country so much, he spent much of his time feeling like the third wheel. The quiet, boring, probably-never-going-to-find-someone-for-himself, third-wheel.

He unlocked his front door and walked into the living room, immediately pulling the phone away from his ear so he could hear over the arguing couple, because he was pretty sure somebody was in his kitchen.

He smiled excitedly, knowing before he rounded the kitchen entry, who would be there, banging around like a loon in his kitchen. There were only two people besides him who had a key to his house, and he was on the phone with one of them.

He leaned against the frame, admiring Stiles’ lean, muscular, _shirtless_ back as he moved to the beat of whatever was coming over the earbuds he had shoved in his ears. He had that perfect V thing going on. Broad shoulders gradually pulling tight to a small waist and hips. The muscular bubble of his butt was covered by the top of his boxers where they were sticking up above his black skinny jeans. He was perfect.

Why did the man do this to him? Was he allergic to shirts?

Derek adjusted his quickly growing erection, hoping his zipper and the tails of his un-tucked shirt would hide his inappropriate bodily reaction, and interrupted the still progressing argument on the phone. “Did you know Klyde was in town?”

The man continued to dance to a rhythm Derek couldn’t hear, proving that he probably still didn’t know he was home.

“What?” Scott asked, sounding well on his way to an overreaction. “Let me talk to him!”

Derek groaned, knowing Scott was going into big brother mode and feeling bad for the man who had probably been back in the country less than a day. Poking the flawless pale skin of his shoulder and forcing himself not to caress it, he backed away slightly as a surprised Stiles whirled around wilding a pizza slicer.

“Shit, Derek.” He laughed, grabbing his heart and leaning back against the counter. “I almost peed!”

Derek laughed, tucking his phone into his side to muffle their voices as Stiles dug the earbuds out of his ears. “Your brother wants to talk to you. He’s probably pissed that you didn’t call him, and he’s already at about a five on the hissy-fit-omoter. Sorry,” he whispered.

“Oh good, a lecture,” he mouthed and then screamed, “What?!” into the phone. “Because he’s nicer!” A disbelieving laugh. “Well, right now you’re yelling at me about staying with Derek instead of you!” His eyes widened and then he frowned before growling into the phone, “I’m not going to get in the way of him getting laid.”

Golden, whiskey eyes met his with an unnamed emotion until Derek crossed his eyes and shook his head. Stiles laughed and relaxed, sighing as his brother continued to bitch at him about God only knew what.

“No.” He looked down at his bare chest and a slow smile stretched across his face. “I make no promises.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Derek, but was quickly drawn back into frowning by whatever Scott said next. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Pause. “Fine!” He thrust the phone at Derek and sneered. “He wants to talk to you.”

He took the phone, smiling.

“Yeah?” he said into the receiver when Stiles turned back to cutting the frozen pizza he had made.

“Do you care if he stays with you? Don’t lie to me.” His friend sounded cranky.

Derek again rolled his eyes. It was true that in the past, Stiles had stayed with his brother, but now that the man was married, it made more sense for him to stay with Derek.

“Klyde is always welcome at my house, Scott. I wouldn’t have given him a key if he wasn’t.”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Derek, a small smile on his pouty mouth. Derek forced himself to look away.

“I told him not to get in your way. If he crosses a line, tell me.”

He actually laughed at that one. “What are you going to do? Lie there and cry while he sits on you and pinches your nipples again? Klyde is my friend too, Scott.”

Scott snorted. “Yeah, but I’ve lived with him before, you haven’t. He can be a major pain in the ass.”

Derek choked on a laugh. “You know that’s a temptation to a gay guy, right?”

“Har, har.”

“I can handle Klyde.”

***

Thank God for Derek, because Stiles was _still_ steaming a bit. He really shouldn’t blame his brother. The guy had always been a spaz and an immense over-reactor. And he honestly couldn’t have any idea how much the idea of Derek getting laid was a kick in the gut to Stiles. Nobody knew that.

“I can handle Klyde,” Derek said into the phone from not far behind him.

Stiles snorted quietly. “I wish.” He was brooding. Brooding! He didn’t brood.

“I don’t know,” Derek said, sounding a bit annoyed. “Does it matter? As long as he wants.”

The hand on his hip surprised him, making him turn to face Derek. He could only hope that the bout of absolute lust that swept through his body didn’t come through in his eyes. The hand lingered there a moment longer before dropping away and Stiles met the most amazing eyes God had seen fit to grace the planet with.

Green? Blue? An interesting hazel mash-up? Who the fuck knew?

“How long are you staying?” Derek asked, rolling his eyes and pointing at the phone, making it clear that the spaz-basket on the other end of the phone wanted to know.

“Week, week and a half. Is that okay?”

The truth was, he didn’t really have _anywhere_ to be. He’d been a bit homesick lately and had decided against booking another shoot for a while, but his brother didn’t work in “I don’t knows” and “Whenevers.” So, a little fibbing was in order.

“Of course,” Derek said with a wry smile, nudging Stiles’ arm and moving closer. “You hear that?” he asked the man in the phone. “Yes, dear. I’ll call you later.” Pause. “Fine. Bye.”

They were standing side by side, leaning backwards against the counter when Derek hung up and slid his phone into his pocket.

He snuck a couple quick glances at the obvious pads of the man’s pecks and his flat stomach, still completely identifiable through the cotton of his royal blue dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled to the elbows, showing off the lightly haired forearms of a man who clearly worked hard on his body.

His dark hair was always messy. Something Stiles found so freaking endearing. It always took an extreme measure of self-control not to reach up and run his hands through the strands he knew would be silky-soft against his palms.

Self-control that was becoming a limited commodity with every passing moment that Derek stood within touching distance of him.

Clearing his throat, Stiles turned his head to meet Derek’s kind hazel? eyes. “He’s such a spaz.”

Derek nodded, smiling. “Without a doubt.” His brow furrowed slightly. “You know you’re always welcome here, right? Like _really_ welcome. I actually love the company.”

“Honestly, before that moron started in on me about whether or not I was making a nuisance of myself, I never even considered the idea that you wouldn’t want me here. It’s kinda hard not to have doubts now.”

Derek threw his arm around Stiles’ shoulders from the side, pressing their bodies together. Stiles had finally topped out at about two inches taller than Derek and well over four inches taller than Scott, but while Stiles was still fairly lean and long limbed, Derek had managed to add another twenty pounds of pure muscle to his frame, so there was a _lot_ of body to press against, on both their parts. And every inch of Stiles’ _very_ long side was tingling with awareness.

“Never doubt it, Klyde. You’re as much my friend as Spaz is.”

He laughed, allowing his arm to slide along Derek’s lower back, relishing the warmth of the contact. “Yeah. That’s true. You want some?”

Their eyes met and for just a second, he could have sworn there was desire lighting flames in those beautiful eyes. “Huh?”

“Pizza? You want some Pizza?”

Derek’s eyes widened and then he laughed, moving away. “Uh, yeah. That sounds great.”

Chapter Two

Thursday 10:15 PM

He’d tried to ignore Stiles, thinking it was a matter of “ignore it and it will go away.” But it had been well over fifteen minutes since the man had gotten out of the shower, and he was still walking Derek’s living room in a towel.

Sighing, Derek let his eyes roam the sexy form of his friend. Maybe letting his attention linger a little too long on sleek muscles that disappeared beneath the black terrycloth.

“What are you doing?” he all but moaned, when Stiles made another circle around the couch on some seemingly pointless task.

Stiles blinked at him, all false innocence. “What?”

Derek looked pointedly at the towel. “Really?”

The man’s hands went to his hips as he posed before Derek. “You have a problem with my attire?”

Derek knew he should feel ashamed as he looked the gorgeous specimen over from head to toe and then back again, but he had very little control over is eyes when the man was standing in front of him in an easily removable rectangle of cloth.

And then he dropped it. Well, unknotted it and tossed the still slightly damp material that smelled like soap and Stiles and threw it at Derek’s face.

Derek liked to think he had excellent hand-eye coordination, but he was distracted by the very _naked_ sight of Stiles Stilinski. So, it was really no wonder the towel hit him in the face and wrapped around his head.

“What the?” He growled, wrestling with the clinging terrycloth and glaring at the breath-taking sight before him. “Dude!”

Stiles’ semi hard cock bobbed as the man laughed, making Derek’s skin itch as the ever-growing pressure in his dick threatened to explode out of the top from just the rub of his jeans.

“What?” the other man asked, moving his hips from side to side, making the slightly engorged thing swing. “It’s just a penis.” There was definite humor in his voice. “Is the gay guy afraid of penises?”

Derek finally found the self-control to cover his face with the very towel that had been wrapped around that perfect body. “I’m not afraid of penises. Now would you put it away?”

“Why? I like being naked.”

Yeah, well Derek liked him being naked. Too much. Which was the problem. He eased out of the chair, allowing the towel to fall in front of his pants so he didn’t flash his own _very_ aroused package and blindly made his way to his bedroom. “I’m going to bed, and you’re an asshole.”

Stiles’ laughter followed him all the way to his room.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. The man had always had an enduring playfulness that bordered on flirtation. It was just that tonight it bordered on sexual harassment. And Derek _loved_ it.

It looked like he’d be once again rubbing one out to the tune of Stiles Stilinski. It wouldn’t even be the first time today.

***

Friday 6:33 AM

Derek stumbled into the kitchen, feeling less than sociable after only getting a couple of hard-won hours of sleep. The reason behind his long night stood, leaning back against the counter with two cups of coffee in his hand, looking delicious and slightly rumpled in his athletic shorts and bare feet. His golden brown, silky hair stood up in all directions and sleep hazed bright eyes looked Derek over as he extended a cup.

“Coffee, Princess?”

Derek accepted the cup with a growl, glaring at the man he wanted to bend backwards over the counter by force of his tongue in his mouth. “I _will_ kill you.”

Stiles smiled, tipping the corners of that luscious mouth. “You are such a beautiful ball of sunshine in the morning!”

“Do you ever wear a fucking shirt?”

Never really a morning person, he was known among their little group as completely unreasonable before he had his coffee. But today he felt almost dangerous. He was hungry, tired and horny as fuck. He could almost feel bad about snapping at Stiles, but the caffeine from his coffee hadn’t made it any further than the depths of his empty stomach yet.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, baby girl. Just because you’re all pissy doesn’t mean you can smash my self-esteem to bits,” Stiles said with amusement in his voice. “Now, tell me I’m pretty.”

The man was never fazed. He was doing what he always did. Taking it all in-stride. Being that beautiful kaleidoscope of a human being that tended to make Derek melt.

Derek allowed himself to smile. “I couldn’t smash your self-esteem with a sledgehammer, Klyde”

“And?” Stiles hedged, moving closer.

Derek took great pleasure in slowly bringing the cup to his mouth and taking a long sip while watching the man under his brows.

_Damn, he’s gorgeous!_ It made his stomach clench to look at him.

“So grouchy.” Stiles smiled wryly and turned to the sink to rinse his cup.

Derek knew he should let it be. It was in his best interest _not_ to tempt himself further with this man that was one of his closest friends, but he was beginning to realize his self-control was slipping with every encounter he had with Stiles. It had been steadily getting worse with each passing year, and he felt like he had virtually none left.

Walking up behind Stiles, he braced his hands on the counter on either side of the man’s hips and leaned forward until his chest pressed against the sinewy lines of the taller man’s back. He kept his lower body back, not needing him to know just how much he was enjoying this position.

“You look beautiful this morning, honey.” He kissed the side of Stiles’ neck and held in a moan as he licked his lips, tasting the slightly salty flavor of the other man’s skin.

“Was that so hard? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.”

Laughing, Derek pulled back. “You’re such an asshole,” he said, patting Stiles’ ass and laughing a bit harder when the younger man flinched in surprise.

After Derek rinsed his cup, he headed out of the kitchen feeling more energized and less snarly, even if he _was_ sporting a boner that could probably knock holes in concrete.

“Where are _you_ going?” Stiles asked just before he left the kitchen.

“To shower, Sweetums.”

“Yeah you are,” Stiles drawled. “Think about me, Big-Boy.”

Derek stopped, turning to look at Stiles, who suspiciously looked like he’d been checking out Derek’s ass. “You could seriously stand to be a smidge homophobic.”

And he could. His playfulness could be read differently by a gay man that didn’t know his enduring personality. Sometimes Derek even had a hard time not feeling like Klyde was interested in him, and he’d known the man for years.

“But then who would flirt with your cranky ass?”

“Hey!” Derek crossed his arms over his chest, giving his best mock scowl. “I’ve had my coffee. I’m perfectly chipper.”

It was too bad he had to go to work. He would have loved to stay home and enjoy Stiles’ company for the entire day. But as Klyde nodded his head in sarcastic agreement, Derek turned toward his room, where he would shower—and yes jerk-off—and then get ready for work.

***

Stiles watched Derek leave the room in a far better mood than he’d entered and sagged against the counter, feeling good about the part he’d played in the transformation.

Was it completely perverse to hope that he’d had even half the effect on Derek that Derek had had on him? That he hoped the man was about to walk into that shower and stroke himself to thoughts of Stiles.

He moaned, reaching up to rub a hand down his face. Thank the good Lord for the convenient placement of countertops, because he was fairly confident Derek hadn’t notice his massive boner. Though, he seriously doubted the kind-hearted man would have said a word or even hinted to it even if he had realized that Stiles was sporting wood.

Derek might be super grouchy without coffee in his system, but he would never purposely hurt anyone.

He wished for probably the ten millionth time since he knew the man, that he had the courage to just kiss him. He’d wanted to for so damn long, but Derek had never given any inclination that he was attracted to him, so he thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was to make Derek uncomfortable with the unwanted advances of a lanky, awkward guy who tended to be a complete nerd a large percent of the time.

But maybe kissing Derek would be awful and he could put this decade’s long crush to bed. It would make things far less confusing in his mind if he could simply move on from the man who never seemed to notice him in any way but that of a good friend.

Not that he was complaining about that. He’d rather be friends with him than nothing at all.

Stiles had tried nearly everything to get the man’s attention, but had failed miserably for years. Maybe he should just admit defeat and conclude that Derek just wasn’t attracted to him. He’d walked around naked in front of the man with a semi-erect penis and had barely gone noticed. Didn’t that say _something_?

But some fantasies were just too hard to put to bed.

***

Friday 7:26 PM

Was it completely pathetic that Derek had basically raced home from work this evening, just so he could spend as much time as possible in Stiles’ company before they headed out to have dinner and drinks with Scott and Allison? They hadn’t even done anything besides have a couple beers and watch a movie. But simply being in the man’s presence was enough of a high to make up for the lack in entertainment.

Stiles was stretched out on the opposite end of the couch. He scooted closer to Derek, leaning back against the arm and propping his feet in Derek’s lap.

“Get your feet off of me,” Derek said half-heartedly, shoving the offending appendages off of his lap.

Stiles laughed, again lifting his feet and depositing them right back on his thighs, far too close to his dick for comfort. “You need to get over this weird thing you have with feet.”

“No weird thing,” Derek said, laughing. “I just don’t want your dirty feet on me.” This time when he pushed them into the floor, he threw a heavy thigh across Stiles’ legs, pinning them down.

Stiles wiggled, trying to free his legs, but Derek set in, putting almost all his weight on them.

“My feet are clean,” the man struggling whined, finally latching on to Derek’s leg, just above the knee. “Oooo, somebody’s boy crazy.”

A laugh bubbled out of him, and he latched onto the wrist of the hand that was tickling him, and tried to wrestle it off. Just as he managed to get the first one off, the other one came into play and Derek struggled to pull his leg free, gripping Stiles’ wrists and gulping in breaths when he could, between laughs. “Stop!”

But of course he didn’t and soon Derek was shoving his head in the middle of the man’s chest so he couldn’t reach his legs anymore.

“Kiss it!” Stiles had somehow gotten his leg free while simultaneously torturing Derek with his ticklish spot. And now, because the man was freaky flexible, there was a foot getting far to close to Derek’s lips.

Laughing, Derek turned his head, trying to get away from the foot while holding Stiles’ wrists and keeping the man pushed back with the side of his face in his chest. “You’re so kinky.”

Making quick work of things, because he was Stiles and was still undefeated in the group wrestling matches that broke out more often than not, Stiles had Derek in a guillotine choke hold with his head tucked under the other man’s arms and his legs wrapped firmly around Derek’s hips before Derek could do anything more than wrap his arms around the man and try not to fall forward into his lap.

“Oh yeah baby.” Stiles laughed, pretending to hump him.

Now, Derek had seen him do this same thing to his brother hundreds of times and normally, he would be laughing his ass off. But suddenly, their position was feeling extremely intimate and Derek’s body was beginning to take notice in a way that was bound to embarrass them both.

Needing to distract himself, Derek used all his strength to stand with the large man wrapped around him and then he dropped _hard_ onto the couch, hoping to shake him lose.

It worked…kinda. Stiles’ arms fell away. But the part of his body he needed to _not_ be touching Stiles with was still firmly pressed against the other man. Thankfully, the guy didn’t seem to notice while his hands scrambled with Derek’s as they both tried to be the one in control.

Derek was counting on that distraction to keep things from getting a bit awkward. “Uh oh!” he sing-songed. “Somebody’s losing their touch.” He gripped Stiles’ wrists, struggling to pin them down.

A slow, sexy smile graced Stiles’ expression and then he locked his ankles behind Derek’s back. “Oh, I still have it.” And then he squeezed his legs together, squishing Derek’s sides with his powerful thighs.

If a man was going to be crushed to death, it should be just like this. Looking down at a beautifully shirtless chest, watching as the muscles flexed and bunched beneath mole dotted, pale skin and being pressed between an amazing pair of legs.

Even though he could barely breathe, he could definitely feel his erection as it punched almost painfully against his jeans.

He growled. “Your freaking inhumanly strong legs! Fuck! Okay, okay, okay. I give!”

He sucked in a much-needed breath and massaged his sides as he glared down at Stiles who had rolled off of the couch and was lying on his stomach on the floor. Derek took the opportunity to hide behind the couch, so his boner didn’t freak the other guy out.

“Jeez, Klyde. Where the fuck did you get those fucking legs?”

“Aw,” he said into his arms. “You talk so sweet to me.” He slowly rose, keeping his back to Derek. “I’m going to hit the shower.”

There was something strange about the way Stiles was acting and Derek, being in a self-consciously aroused state, worried that maybe Stiles had noticed his situation down south after all.

“Hurry,” he said, forcing false lightness into his tone. “We are supposed to meet Spaz and Allison at eight-thirty.

Stiles turned awkwardly to look over his shoulder without facing him. There was a bright smile on the man’s face that put Derek more at ease, but he couldn’t help but think there was something off.

The way he was standing…

_No way! He couldn’t possibly be having the same issue I am._ No. That was just wishful thinking on his part. There was just no possible way his very _straight_ friend had just been turned on by their little wrestling match.

“Yes, honey,” Stiles said, moving toward the bathroom. “I just need to put my face on.”

“Waiting on a woman!” he yelled back, laughing when Stiles flipped him off.

_Damn! I have to get control of this shit!_

Chapter Three

Friday 10:23 PM

What started out as dinner and drinks did what it always did. Spilled over into, “let’s go to the bar.” Where Scott had proceeded to get a wee bit buzzed and was now mooning over his wife like nobody else was in the entire room.

It was a good five minutes into the “my wife is great. Isn’t she great? I can’t believe how blessed I am. Do you think anyone else in the whole world is as in love with their wife as I am with mine?” And Stiles was watching it all with amusement…and a bit of envy, wondering if he’d ever have somebody in his life that looked at him the way his brother and sister in-law looked at each other.

He looked sideways at Derek, smiling when the man looked at him and crossed his eyes.

Stiles wasn’t fooled. He knew Derek loved this ridiculous couple as much as he did.

As though Scott had finally realized he was in a bar full of people, he looked around and then let his attention settle on Stiles. “I still think you should be staying with Allison and me.”

“Why?” he asked, feeling uncomfortable and a little annoyed. Didn’t his brother realize him getting married was just the excuse Stiles had been waiting for to finally stay with Derek? “Derek has an extra room and I don’t have to watch my annoying step-brother kiss ass all day and night.”

“I don’t kiss ass. I’m respectful of my wife.” He tossed a nut at Stiles. “And you’re just as nice to her as I am.”

“That’s because she puts up with my ass-kiss step-brother.” He smiled brightly at his sister in-law while tossing the nut back at his brother.

“You be nice to my amazing husband Stiles Stilinski. He treats me like a princess.” But she was laughing…because they all knew his brother was a mushy dork.

“You’re a queen,” the mushy dork said, lightly kissing his wife on the forehead. And then the nose. And then both cheeks. And finally the mouth.

Stiles again looked at Derek wryly before batting his eyes like a lovesick…Scott. “Oh Derek, I could lose myself in the deep pools of your green and blue and yellow and brown and possibly purple eyes.”

Derek caught on immediately, leaning in to breathily say, “I only see you, Klyde.”

Stiles leaned in as well. “And your mouth. Those sexy, full lips. A man can burn alive thinking about what that mouth could do to him.”

Actually both statements were one hundred percent true, but nobody had to know that.

“I only want to tongue _you_ , Klyde.”

Also no need for anyone to know how much _that_ statement sent blood straight to his dick.

“And these big, strong hands.” He grabbed one of Derek’s hands, pulling the large, calloused paw to his chest, rubbing his thumb over the rough patches on the man’s palm and trying not to imagine the way they would feel on his body. “A man with hands this size has to be packing.”

Derek was struggling not to laugh. “I only ever want to—“

“Stop!” Scott stood quickly and smacked a hand over Derek’s mouth, glowering at the two of them.

“No! Don’t stop! That was fucking _hot_!” Allison was leaning forward on the table watching the scene avidly. Even reaching out to swat at her husband’s arm so he’d stop blocking the dialogue.

“Don’t encourage them, Allison.” His brother flopped back in his seat, pouting. “They’re always ganging up on me.”

“Like a three-way?” Allison’s eyes filled with mischief. “Sound’s interesting.”

“Et tu?” The man asked, making everyone laugh.

“Yeah Scotty. Lean over here and kiss me. Give me some tongue.” He reached out and grabbed Scott’s neck, pulling him forward.

Scott laughed, turning his head away and pushing against Stiles, so that all he could do was put a sloppy wet kiss on the man’s cheek.

He finally managed to wrestle himself free, laughingly scrubbing at his face. “You are such a prick, Stiles.”

“How can you be so homophobic and be best friends with a gay guy? You, my brother, are an enigma.”

“That’s not fair, Klyde,” Derek said, resting both arms on the table and leaning forward. “Not everyone is as… _open_ as you are.”

_If you only knew how_ open _I am to the idea of being with you._

“Maybe a little too open to be straight.” Allison was eyeing him wryly and he couldn’t help but wonder just how much she could see.

He winked at her, thinking for probably the millionth time that Scotty couldn’t have found a more perfect woman. She fit so seamlessly into this mixed can of nuts. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she hadn’t been around forever.

“I’m not homophobic. I’m genophobic. I don’t necessarily want to make out with my brother in public.”

“So, later then?”

Scott sighed, getting up from the table and just walking off. If he wasn’t headed in the direction of the bathroom, Stiles might have worried that he’d pushed him too far.

Actually, no. He wouldn’t be worried at all. He lived for making his brother crazy. “He’s so easy.”

“That’s what she said,” Derek added dryly.

And then they all laughed.

Poor Scott. He’d always been the butt of the jokes back when it was three and not much had changed now that there were four. Except maybe that Allison was always there to kiss his witttle face and insure him of her love.

She shook her head, still laughing. “You guys are so mean to him.”

Derek nodded, propping his head in his hand. “Yeah, but he kinda deserves it for being such a spaz.”

“Hey Derek,” A voice called from just behind Stiles, and he turned to find an attractive model-looking man striding toward them, wearing a straight white smile on his spray tanned face.

Stiles was usually a “love everyone until they give you a reason not to” type person, but the man who had come to a stop inches from Derek’s chair, laying a hand on his shoulder and giving a familiar rub, suddenly looked like the devil himself.

Blond, streaked hair cut neatly, bright blue eyes, handsome, angular face and soft, somewhat sensual lips and a very fit body. The man really was gorgeous.

And Stiles hated him. Wanted to reach over and snatch his decidedly delicate looking hand right off of his man.

Oops! _Not my man._

“Hey.”

Was it his imagination, or was Derek acting different? Had his back just straightened slightly? Was that a fidget going on where his fingers were nervously drumming the table? Who was this guy to him?

“You’re looking hot tonight.” This was accompanied by another, lingering rub and Stiles’ easygoing temperament took a nose-dive.

“Uh…thanks.” A blush. Derek blushed!

It was like every passing moment that this man stood there, Stiles’ mood slipped a little further into the dangerous territory of a jealous rage.

“Who. Are. You?” he asked, not even trying to be polite.

Derek gave him a strange, confused look, but he ignored it. Focusing instead, on the man turning to look at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Jackson. I work with Derek.” He stuck out a hand like he expected a hand-shake, but Stiles was a little worried that if he took the man’s hand, he’d do something crazy, like jerk him into an elbow.

So, he ignored the hand and nodded instead. “I’m Stiles, Derek’s boyfriend.”

He’d forgotten Allison was even there until she choked on whatever it was that she was drinking. He ignored her, watching Derek’s expression, daring him to refute the claim.

An eyebrow rose, and then Derek scratched his nose, looking away.

Stiles knew he was kinda making an ass out of himself, but he really couldn’t see any way around it. He didn’t want this guy anywhere near Derek, and the fact that the man was touching him like he had the right was making Stiles a little unreasonable.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Jackson said to Derek. Then he paused, looking at Stiles skeptically. “And weren’t you just kissing that other guy?”

“Yeah, that’s my brother.” Deadpan.

Derek snorted, biting his lip, and Allison looked down at the table, obviously hiding her laugh. Stiles finally felt himself smile, the knot of jealousy in his stomach loosening, as he reached under the table and rubbed Derek’s thigh.

He felt more like himself when Derek grabbed his wrist, giving him a wry smile and shaking his head. “It’s _really_ new.” He tried to shove Stiles hand away, but it just made him grip harder

“Oh. Well good job on bagging the hottie.”

“Yeah, I’m a really lucky man,” Derek said through gritted teeth as he tried to pry Stiles’ hand off of his leg when he gave a teasing squeeze like he was going to start tickling him again.

_Oh shit._ The wrestling match. So fucking hot. The wack-off session in the shower had barely taken the edge off of his craving and he’d been fighting a stiffy all night. Especially now, with his hand on Derek’s hard thigh. The urge to take it higher was an itch under his skin.

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you on Monday, Derek.”

“Bye Jackson,” Derek called, not taking his laughing eyes off of Stiles. He finally managed to get the hand off of his thigh by bending the wrist forward and jerking. “So, we’re dating now?

“We better be! I cooked you dinner last night.”

He smiled wryly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Cooking is a bit of a stretch.”

“So, you’d rather date spray-on tan?” A bit of jealousy might have shown through in his derisive tone.

“No, baby. I told you. I only have eyes for you.” He was smiling broadly as he leaned forward again, putting himself closer to Stiles.

“Then shut up and enjoy my cooking.”

“I’m sorry, Klyde. Don’t be mad at me.” Derek put his arm on the back of Stiles’ chair, pulling himself closer to his side and giving him a warm squeeze.

Stiles smiled at Allison who was watching the whole thing like it was her favorite soap, while shoveling handful after handful of nuts into her mouth.

He spotted Scott as he walked back from the bathroom and smiled mischievously at Derek, turning into the man and putting their faces inches from each other. “You’ll make it up to me?”

There was a slight stiffening his Derek’s shoulders, but the man continued to smile, glancing at Stiles’ mouth. “Anything.”

His heart started racing. He knew what he was going to do. He needed to. It would be completely stupid not to take advantage of this situation. He _had_ to know what Derek’s mouth felt like. What it tasted like. And when all was said and done, he could blame it on the joke. On messing with Scott.

He pressed his mouth against Derek’s, closing his eyes and relishing the feel of the man’s soft, warm lips. There was a moment of surprise, but then he felt Derek relax, pressing back against him.

It wasn’t enough. He needed more. Stiles tilted his head and parted his lips, reaching up to grab the back of Derek’s neck as he licked the seam of the man’s mouth. He wasn’t sure if he imagined the sound or not, but he thought he heard a moan through the blood roaring in his ears, just before Derek opened his lips and thrust his tongue into Stiles’ mouth.

He felt himself losing control a bit as his fingers dug into the thick, silky hair at the base of Derek’s head. But he couldn’t seem to find the will to care. His dick was so far beyond merely hard. In fact he was positive he was leaking precome, making a mess in his boxers. Hell, he was a soft breeze away from coming in his pants.

But it was more than that. This was Derek. A man he honestly felt more whole around than any other person in the whole world and as they kissed, Stiles realized he finally felt absolute peace for the first time. It was a feeling he expected to experience when he walked through the pearly gates into Heaven one day, but he’d found a piece of it here, with his mouth pressed to this gorgeous man’s in a bar.

“Very funny, assholes.”

The scrape of a chair broke up the moment, and Stiles dazedly turned his head in the direction of his brother, letting his hand fall away from Derek’s neck. He was breathing hard and could only hope everyone attributed it to his acting skills.

They wouldn’t if they could see the front of his pants. Thank the Lord he was lazy and left his shirt un-tucked.

Derek huffed out a laugh as Scott stomped off, this time in the direction of the door, and Stiles looked over at him sideways, smiling.

The man’s kiss swollen lips distracted him a moment, but thankfully Allison saved his ass before he could lean over like a nut-bag and kiss Derek again.

“That was…” Her eyes were wide and trained on the two of them like she was waiting for the next show to start. “I’m sweating.”

Stiles nodded. “See, two birds, one stone.” He looked toward Jackson and then the door where Scott had gone. “And we even gave sweet Allison an early birthday present.”

“We’re amazing people,” Derek said with faux humility.

Chapter Four

Saturday 12:15 AM

After the kiss, Derek had somehow scraped together some composure and managed to act somewhat normal, but the car ride had been kinda quiet. Stiles would try to draw him into conversation, but his mind was so wrapped around the way it felt to finally have his mouth on the other man’s, he’d completely forgotten how to communicate correctly.

He was desperately fumbling with figuring out how to answer the man, but his brain could only seem to manage single syllable answers and by the time they pulled into the parking lot at his apartment, Stiles had given up and was staring quietly out of his window.

Inside, Derek knew he needed to find some way to lighten the mood and put Stiles at ease so this whole thing didn’t end up ruining their friendship, but his brain just couldn’t come up with a plan of action.

Leave it to Stiles. “Derek? You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, managing to sound a little convincing. “Why?”

Stiles plopped down on the couch by him. Almost close enough for their legs to touch. “You’ve been really quiet.”

Derek smiled a little, looking at Stiles out of the corner of his eye. “I’m just really tired, Klyde.”

He wondered if Stiles knew he was lying. The man was pretty good at figuring people out and even though Derek wanted to, he wasn’t doing such a great job of hiding the fact that something was bothering him.

Stiles sighed, making Derek think that no, he wasn’t buying the tired thing. “Are you mad at me?” There was a sad quality to the way his friend said that, and it actually made Derek want to rub his chest.

“What? No.” He turned to Stiles, making sure the man could see his face.

Stiles met his eyes directly. He might be sad, but there was nothing meek about him. “For kissing you. I know I crossed a line.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I’m unpredictable, even to myself.”

Derek felt himself smile a real smile for the first time since right after the kiss before the shock had set in. “It’s fine, Klyde. It was a good joke. Your brother might not talk to us for a while, but Allison enjoyed it.”

Stiles laughed, relaxing back into the couch a bit. “Yes, yes she did.”

Derek threw his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, jostling him. “Seriously, we’re good. You and I are always good, Klyde.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated back with a smile. “I’m going to bed. Night, Klyde.”

He rose from the couch, smiling back at Stiles, knowing that they would be fine, because Derek wouldn’t let them be anything but fine. He needed this man in his life.

“Night, Derek.”

***

Saturday 2:25 AM

Derek looked at the clock and groaned. He’d been staring at the ceiling for hours, trying to think of _anything_ but the kiss. He’d succeed for a minute before every thought would lead back to the press of Stiles’ deliciously sensual mouth to his.

The voice in his head said it was in his best interest to forget the smooth glide of that silky tongue. He needed to get over it. There was no way the kiss meant anything beyond a good laugh to the other man. So it needed to stop meaning anything to him.

That was so much easier said than actually done.

The enormous erection continuously keeping him company couldn’t forget. And it wasn’t letting him either.

There was a soft knock on the door and then Stiles’ head was making an appearance around the frame. There was enough light from the open bathroom door for Derek to see that Stiles was again shirtless.

_Man, the light loves him._

Stiles stepped fully inside the room, hesitation evident in the way he opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Stiles?” Derek didn’t like how vulnerable his friend looked then. It was nothing like the colorful human being he adored so much. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, shit!” Stiles pushed a hand through already disheveled hair, making the glossy strands stand up all over his head. “I’m so impulsive! I have no idea what I want to say.”

“Whoa. What’s going on?” He leaned over, turning on the bedside lamp and then scooting over, making room beside him. “Come on. This is obviously really important.”

He hoped his reassuring smile was even a bit convincing, but he could feel the tightness in his features. Stiles, vulnerable and nervous, was a sight to be wary of. His stomach knotted in fear as he ran through all the reasons this man of all people would be in this state.

Sure that the man had decided to end their friendship and leave him without one of his best friends, Derek raised the blankets for Stiles to slide in.

Stiles gasped, his eyes going wide, and Derek jerked his eyes down to his body, hoping he hadn’t flashed his boner at the guy. He hadn’t, but when he looked back up at Stiles, the man’s eyes were taking in his bare chest with a fascination that almost had Derek blushing.

Yeah, he was pretty proud of his body. He’d worked hard for it. But he didn’t necessarily run around without a shirt very often. He’d always kinda wanted to keep that preserved, so he could watch his lover do what Stiles was doing right now, when he saw him for the first time.

So he had a narcissistic need to be drooled over.

“Shit Derek!”

His mouth twitched and he considered pushing the blankets lower on his body, showing the lower portion of his stomach and his killer V, but that would also be showing his killer woody and he didn’t see that as being constructive toward getting a straight man to slide into bed with him.

“Klyde?” he prompted when it looked like Stiles was going to stand there staring at his chest all day.

“Wow, sorry.” He looked a little embarrassed and sheepish as he slid in along-side Derek, both with their backs against the pillows propped against the headboard.

“You’re kinda scaring me, Klyde,” Derek said honestly after a couple silent moments.

Stiles swallowed, licking his lips. “I really need to…I think…shit! Actions speak louder than words, right?”

Derek frowned, trying to follow the babble. “Yeah, I guess—“

He was cut off as Stiles slammed his mouth against Derek’s, cupping his neck and turning so half of his chest was pressed against half of Derek’s.

Again, Derek hesitated only long enough to figure out what was happening before letting himself go. He didn’t wait for Stiles to make the first move toward deepening the kiss. He wasn’t in shock this time as he jammed his tongue between Stiles’ lips and took control of the kiss.

Derek had the man of his dreams half-naked in is bed with his tongue down his throat. He wasn’t going to wait around until he woke up.

He thrust his tongue harder, dueling with Stiles’, moaning when the man licked the roof of his mouth like he was trying to get every ounce flavor from it.

Stiles was half on top of him, but Derek desperately needed to feel their hard bodies sliding together. He wrapped his arms around the man’s body and rolled him onto his back on the bed with the force of his mouth and chest, not wanting to break the kiss for fear it would end completely.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected it. Maybe because he _knew_ Stiles was straight. But he hadn’t expected to feel the hard ridge of the man’s dick press against his. And he groaned, nipping at the sensitive flesh of Stiles’ kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, Klyde.” He pressed against him again, his stomach clenching at both the sensation of their entire bodies rubbing together and the encouraging moan/whimper that escaped the throat of the man he was currently dry-humping.

Two large hand’s clamped onto his ass, squeezing, further surprising Derek with the enthusiasm of his friend as Stiles rolled his hips, rubbing their erections together.

Derek was already on the cusp of exploding. His balls were drawing up and he was already starting to hold his breath. But Stiles stopped them both, not allowing the friction.

“I want to feel you,” he said, reaching between them and sliding the tips of his fingers in the front of Derek’s shorts, and brushing the sensitive skin of the head of his super engorged dick.

“Shit.” He dropped his mouth to Stiles’ shoulder and then raised his hips, allowing Stiles to push his shorts down so he could grip his flesh.

At the first touch of Stiles’ slightly calloused hand wrapped around him, Derek gave a guttural cry and nearly spilled. Trying to distract himself, he licked Stiles’ neck and then sucked, realizing too late that he was probably going to leave a mark on the man’s flawless skin.

Needing to feel the hot length of Stiles in his hand, he reached between them, and under the band of the man’s shorts, gasping when he found his fist being filled with a sizable erection.

Stiles Bucked, throwing his head back and calling Derek’s name. It was the most erotic thing Derek had ever seen or heard in his whole life and he watched with avid fascination, wishing he could somehow live this moment continuously forever.

They worked each other quickly, the frantic almost manic need overwhelming them.

Derek stopped them, almost laughing when Stiles whimpered. But he couldn’t laugh. His body was too desperate for the writhing man beneath him.

“Here,” he husked, brushing Stiles’ hand off of him and lining their erections up, before wrapping first one and then the other of Stiles’ hands around both of their engorged dicks.

A small smile played along Stiles’ lips as he looked down at the sight of both of their heads peaking out above his clasped hands. Derek kissed him, drawing first Stiles’ lip and then his tongue into his mouth and sucking.

He wanted to taste this man forever. Wanted Stiles’ essence in every cell of his body, but that would have to wait, because he wanted even more to see the look on Stiles’ face when he came.

Derek drew away, watching with avid interest, as he started moving against his friend. The fun, ridiculous individual with the mischievous eyes was missing and in his place was a picture of pure ecstasy. Stiles’ eyes rolled back in his head and he let out the dirtiest moan Derek had ever heard. The beauty of the sight before him was so intense, his balls drew up tight, preparing to spill.

“Fuck, Klyde. Just fuck,” he growled as Stiles spread his legs further and began lifting to thrust against Derek, meeting him half way.

Stiles’ eyelids fluttered and then he was looking into Derek’s eyes, the dark-amber of his gaze seeming almost electric and glowing with the heat of his passion. Intense, beautiful and smoldering, they almost burned him.

Derek’s thrusts increased, the power of his hips matching that of the man rocking beneath him. Suddenly, Stiles’ mouth parted on a horse cry just as Derek felt the first splash of hot come against his stomach.

It was the heat of the liquid and the look of ecstasy on Stiles’ face that sent Derek off in an explosion of spiritual, mental and _definitely_ physical orgasm. And then he collapsed against Stiles, his face pressing into the pillow by the other man’s head.

He wanted to move. He _should_ move. But the capability to do such a thing had apparently surfed right out of his body on a wave of semen.

How could he have had the most intense orgasm in his life, and never entered or been entered by the man still holding his ultra sensitive cock? How could he be half dead by way of orgasm and want nothing more than to get hard so he could do it again?

Realizing he’d gone all dead-weight on Stiles, he regretfully rolled to the side, shivering when his dick slid out of his friend’s hand and fell limply to his lower stomach. Their heavy breathing was highlighted by silence, and the reality of the situation they now found themselves in came crashing to the front of Derek’s mind.

Had they really just done that? Was this some dream that he was going to wake up from tomorrow? He didn’t want to. He never wanted to wake up. The single most powerful sexual experience of his life couldn’t be a dream.

The bed shifted and Derek turned in time to see Stiles move toward the bathroom, becoming a moving silhouette as he blocked out the light of the bathroom.

Derek threw an arm over his face, wondering when reality would sink in for Stiles and he would realize what he’d just done…with a man. He could only hope, and yes, pray, it wouldn’t ruin a friendship so vital to Derek, he honestly didn’t think he could live without it.

A warm, wet cloth touched his stomach and he moved his arm to see Stiles leaning over him, tending to their combined mess on Derek’s chest and stomach. He watched the other man’s face, thinking at any moment, Stiles was going to snap back to reality, and collapse into a puddle of I-can’t-fucking-believe-I-did-that on the floor. But he just finished cleaning him off and tossed the rag through the door into the bathroom floor, before tucking Derek back into his pants and then climbing into the bed, facing him.

Derek opened his mouth, dying to know what was going through Stiles’ head, but the guy cut him off. “Just leave it for now, Derek. Sleep tonight. Talk in the morning.”

Settling in front of Stiles, facing the beautiful man, he nodded, staring into his eyes and watching his perfect features relax. They lie there, watching each other in complete contentment until Derek felt his eyes start getting heavy and smiled softly when he noticed Stiles’ doing the same.

Sleep tonight, talk in the morning. He could do that.

***

Saturday 9:23 AM

Stiles came awake slowly, wondering if there was anything more beautiful in the whole world than waking up to the weight of the beautiful dark head resting on his chest or the muscular arm draped over his stomach, it’s long fingers teasing the skin of his side.

Derek was curled up on his side, head and arm in the afore mentioned positions and his knees curled up and tucked against Stiles’ ass with Stiles’ legs draped over them lazily. It was the most comfortable he had ever been in his life and if it weren’t for the fact that he could tell Derek was trying desperately not to have a panic attack in the comfort of his arms, he totally would have blown off ever getting up. Ever.

“You’re thinking _way_ to hard. Especially without coffee.” He wanted to run his fingers through the silky locks falling every direction across his chest, but wasn’t sure just how far into panic mode Derek had fallen.

Apparently not too far, because his short laugh disturbed the happy trail leading down Stiles’ stomach, causing him to break out in goosebumps. “For the first time since I discovered the beauty of coffee when I was twenty, I actually woke up thinking of something else this morning.”

Stiles laughed nervously, almost whining out loud when it jostled Derek, causing him to sit up. “Yeah, so I don’t blame you on that one.”

“I’m just a bit confused.” He hesitated, frowning and then looked Stiles in the eyes. “Aren’t you straight?”

Stiles sat up, leaning back on his straightened arms and frowning. “I don’t…I can’t really answer that.”

What was he? There just wasn’t a simple answer to that. He could explain. But how do you tell somebody something like this? How do you explain in a way that doesn’t make them think you expect something out of them?

_“Hey, even though I’ve never been attracted to men in general, I’ve always been attracted to you. And even though I’m generally attracted to girls, I’ve never felt a connection with any of them like I do with you.”_

Talk about sounding stupid and crazy and maybe a bit too much like he was a middle school girl who was naive enough to believe in soulmates.

“I don’t know what I am.” He sighed, letting his head fall back on his neck and staring at the ceiling.

“You don’t _know_ what you are?” The tone of Derek’s voice was edged with anger, making Stiles’ head snap back up so he could see the expression on the man’s face.

He immediately wished he hadn’t. Derek was furious, his beautiful features pulled tight, and his beautiful lips pinched in anger. “Don’t you think that is something you should figure out before you go hop into bed with your friend? Or is our friendship so unimportant to you that you don’t care if it’s ruined?”

“Shit! No, you don’t understand, Derek! Of course I would never want something to happen to our friendship. I just didn’t think! I was in the moment. I never stopped to consider the consequences.”

And he hadn’t. Not really. He’d been so blown away by the kiss. So consumed with making sure he’d actually felt what he felt in that moment when Derek had given in and kissed him back at the bar. He hadn’t considered what would happen _after_ it happened again. Hadn’t considered much of anything really.

“So,” Derek said quietly. Somehow, sounding even angrier than before. “That was an experiment.”

“Not per say. A test maybe?” His voice was tight with nerves as he realized there was a huge possibility that he’d completely _ruined_ his relationship with his friend by acting so fucking impulsively.

“Excuse me?” Derek stood quickly, backing away from the bed. His bed. “Damn it, Stiles! If you want to fuck around and try out just how gay you can get without _actually_ being gay, find some other homo! I don’t screw around with straight guys just for kicks.” He walked over to his door and threw it open, striding out.

Stiles scrambled from the bed, getting tangled in the blankets before managing to get lose and run after the man he’d spent over a decade pining over. He caught him just outside of the kitchen, grabbing the man’s arm and forcing him to face him. “It’s not like that, Derek!”

Derek glared, leaning forward until their faces were inches apart. And for the first time in his entire life, he finally saw why those guys quickly backed off when they made the mistake of pissing him off in high school. The guy was utterly terrifying. “What’s it like, Stiles?”

Even super-pissed the man was beautiful. It took Stiles longer than absolutely necessary to respond, because he was too busy staring at the fierce anger that was the man before him.

He wasn’t worried Derek would actually hurt him. The man was angrier than he’d ever seen him, but one thing Stiles was very confident in was the fact that Derek would cut off his own arms before he would lay a hand on Stiles in anger. But just because he wasn’t scared of Derek physically, didn’t mean he was mentally ready to spell out his feelings to somebody who looked like he could barely stand to even look at Stiles’ face.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re this pissed,” Stiles whispered, stepping away and moving to his room.

He grabbed his shirt, shoes, keys and wallet and was out the front door to Derek’s apartment in less than a minute. He threw a wistful glance Derek’s way, but the man was staring angrily ahead in the exact same position Stiles had left him in.

_Fuck! I hope I didn’t totally ruin our friendship._

Chapter Five

Saturday 9:46 PM

The day had been absolutely and completely miserable. Probably the longest day of his entire life. Derek had spent the first half raging over the idea that he’d been used as an experiment by somebody he trusted above almost all else in his life. And the second half had been spent wondering about the results.

Had Stiles enjoyed what they had done? Or was he wishing he’d never walked into Derek’s room last night?

He regretted getting so mad. Felt like an ass and a bit embarrassed Stiles had even seen him like that.

It wasn’t like Stiles had done it to hurt him. The man was simply too soft hearted to do something like that vindictively. He’d just wanted to know. And hadn’t Derek been so consumed with curiosity over the taste of Stiles’ skin that first morning in the kitchen, he’d actually given in and kissed the man’s neck?

Stiles couldn’t possibly know what the kiss and then the sexual gratification afterward had meant to Derek. Not a person on this earth knew how much he adored the other man. And what absolute euphoria had plagued him during, first the kiss, and then the feel of Stiles’ hands on his body. So, Stiles couldn’t’ possibly understand how an experiment of that nature would hurt him. In that he would want more than was being offered.

And he sure as hell wanted more.

He’d just have to get over it.

Finally, at just after a quarter ‘til ten, he couldn’t take it anymore. He picked up his phone and called his best friend, hoping the man had seen Stiles and could tell him Klyde was at least okay.

He didn’t even say hello when Scott answered. “Have you talked to Stiles?” he asked quickly, praying he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt.

“No. Why? Isn’t he staying with you?”

Derek took a second to smack himself in the forehead with the cell phone a few good times before answering. “I don’t know. We had a fight this morning and he left. He hasn’t come home yet and I don’t want to call him.”

“You don’t want to call him? Why? Look, it’s Saturday night. Chances are, Stiles’ completely forgotten all about your fight and is right this very minute, doing everything he can to get laid.”

Derek groaned, squeezing his eyes closed, then snapping them open when he couldn’t keep himself from picturing Stiles naked with some girl, letting her touch all that perfect skin.

“What?” Scott asked, catching the sound.

Derek rubbed his face, wishing he had the freedom to throw the phone, but worried Stiles might call and not be able to get him if he did that. “Nothing. If he comes there, tell him I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just call him. Stiles doesn’t hold grudges long enough to still be pissed at you, man.” He paused, laughing a bit. “Maybe you guys can have some make-up sex.”

Derek choked, but managed to play it off as a laugh. “Night, Scott.”

They hung up and Derek proceeded to pace the room until he was sure the carpet had nearly worn down to pad. It seemed like as each minute passed, the minutes got longer and longer.

At just after eleven, he picked up his phone, ready to just call the man and get it over with, when he heard the rattle of keys at his door.

His heart jumped into gear, kicking up so hard, he could actually feel the pressure of his pulse in his throat.

He started toward the door and then stopped, wondering if he should sit down on the couch and act like he hadn’t been waiting for the man. But as the keys kept rattling and then he heard the sound of them hitting the ground along with muttered cursing, he decided he might just have to assist the man in entering the apartment if he wanted him to do it within the next hour.

He almost sprinted to the door, jerking it open, causing a very surprised, very intoxicated—by the look of him—Stiles to jump back from where he had the keys poised to yet again attempt the difficulty that was his door.

“It’s unlocked,” he said quietly, watching with a frown as the man swayed in front of him.

“Hey honey, I’m home!” His words weren’t exactly slurred. They just weren’t as crisp as they usually were, leading Derek to think he’d been right in assuming the whole drunk thing.

“Please tell me you didn’t drive.” Derek stepped aside, holding the door and trying not to get ran over as Stiles tried desperately to make it through without bouncing off the frame.

He did anyway.

“Ha! No.” He shook his head and just kept shaking it. “That would be a disaster.”

Somehow missing the coffee table with his shin, but just barely, Stiles managed to plop himself onto the couch and proceeded to try to take his shoe off. The thing wouldn’t seem to budge and Derek watched him struggle and fall over four times before he just stayed like that.

Derek sighed and moved to the couch, sitting beside him. “Do you need help?”

“Yes!” Stiles said, somehow sounding both perky and drunk at the same time.

Throwing a leg over both of Derek’s Stiles let his head fall back, over the armrest of the couch, and Derek proceeded to remove both of Stiles’ shoes and socks.

When both feet were bare, Stiles sat up, smiling drunkenly and adorably at Derek. “Thank you!” And then the man was climbing on his lap.

Not in a sexual way…he didn’t think. First, he scooted his butt forward and up onto Derek’s legs, but since he was taller and the other couch arm was too close to Derek, he ended up with his knees practically tucked in his armpits.

“What are you doing?” Derek finally asked, when Stiles tried to spin around while still sitting on his legs.

“I’m trying to sit in your lap.” There was utter concentration on Stiles’ face, and Derek had to force himself not to laugh.

“I think you’re too big.” But as he said it, Stiles was settling in, finally having found the right position and leaning his head against Derek’s neck.

“I think _you_ might be too big.” Stiles giggled, wresting his forehead against Derek’s neck. “Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. No wonder you keep all this deliciousness hidden away.”

Derek laughed, trying to ignore how turned on he was getting from the weight of the man in his lap. “Oh man. You are going to be sooo mad at your mouth in the morning.”

Stiles sat up, looking at Derek like a lost puppy. “My mouth says a lot of stupid things.”

Derek smiled softly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. “Let’s worry about that later. I think you may need to sober up for that conversation.”

Stiles smiled, his sadness suddenly forgotten. “If I promise not to touch your huge winky, can I sleep in your bed with you?

Derek dropped his head to Stiles’ shoulder squeezing him a bit tighter and laughing. “I find it so hard to say no to you.”

“Good to know.”

Chapter Six

Sunday 9:46 AM

Stiles sat two cups of coffee down on the nightstand in Derek’s room and started the torturous act of watching the gorgeous man sleep.

There wasn’t much about him that could be considered even remotely feminine. He was hard and chiseled and just generally masculine. But those damn eyelashes and those dick-sucking lips softened his beautifully angular face.

As a photographer, Stiles was a bit obsessed with the way the light played over the work of art that was the man’s scruff-covered face.

His body was again hidden beneath the cotton of a t-shirt, which made Stiles kinda crazy. Why hide all that delicious muscle and skin? Was he trying to torture Stiles for the misspoken words that had made Derek sound like the test Stiles had put on his sexuality?

He had to admit, though, he hadn’t seen the hard ridges of Derek’s body before the other night since they were kids. It was like the man was perpetually clothed. What did he have against naked skin?

Maybe it was a good thing Derek was the modest type. The one and only time Stiles had seen Derek’s amazing body, he’d very nearly punched a hole in the font of his shorts with his dick. The man was just perfectly built.

Stiles had woken kind of early with his face plastered to the side of Derek’s neck and only the slightest of hangovers. He’d since then showered, brushed, and brewed coffee, so he thought maybe he was ready to face Derek and hopefully clear the air.

Sighing, Stiles climbed into the bed beside Derek, propping himself against the headboard and nudging the sleeping man. He should probably just let him sleep, but Stiles knew himself too well, and if he didn’t get this conversation going now, there was a very big chance he’d chicken out later.

After about the fifth nudge, Derek’s eyes opened with decided crankiness and Stiles turned and grabbed a cup off of the nightstand, hiding his smile. “Coffee?”

Derek turned and sat up, accepting the cup, and still glaring. “Smart man,” he grumbled, leaning back and taking a big drink.

There was a long round of silence, while Stiles waited for the coffee to kick in before he did or said something that would have the cranky man beside him ringing his neck before ten in the morning.

When Derek looked over at him with slightly less of a glare than a moment before, he decided to spit it out, so the jittery feeling taking over his body would finally go away.

“It wasn’t an experiment!” he said quickly, on a rapid exhale and then almost choked when he just as quickly sucked air back in. “It wasn’t.” He looked at Derek, who was now looking at him with a raised eyebrow, but no hostility. “I wasn’t trying to figure out whether or not I’m gay. I did all that jazz in college.” He paused, frowning. “I’m not, by the way.”

“Okay.” Derek hid his expression with his coffee cup, making Stiles think he didn’t want to be read.

“See. This is why I was so nervous about talking to you. I’m good at talking, but I’m not good at _talking._ I always say the wrong things.” He sighed, rolling his head against the headboard a few times. “I’m not gay. But…I have…uh… _you know_.

Derek rubbed his face with his hand, looking a little defeated. “I’m sorry, Klyde. But I honestly have no idea what you mean.”

“I love that,” Stiles said quietly. Almost a whisper.

Derek looked at him, his head leaned back against the headboard. “What?”

“That you call me Klyde. You’re the only one who calls me that.” He smiled softly and Derek returned it, just as softly.

He took a deep breath, needing to be calm to deliver this next part, but his pulse points were throbbing and he felt like, at any given moment, one of them was going to rupture. His eyes slammed shut and he just started talking. “I’ve been perving on you since we were fifteen. Totally jerking it to that pretty face and fucking amazing body since I could make spunk.”

Derek choked out something that resembled both a bark and a laugh, followed by a slightly louder than necessary, “What?!”

Stiles’ smile couldn’t be helped. Derek was known for being laid back and steady. He didn’t shock easy and he definitely didn’t sputter. It was kinda nice to be the ridiculousness behind that.

“Yep.” Stiles nodded, falling somewhere between embarrassed and smug. Whatever the hell that was. Smubarrassed? Sure. “All that shit I do, like walk around without a shirt. Or, _drop_ my towel on your face in the living room.” He smiled mischievously, loving the way Derek’s eyes seemed to get wider with every word Stiles spoke. “I wanted you to notice me.”

Derek opened and closed his mouth, ready to reply, but Stiles couldn’t let him interrupt. “Wait. I know it doesn’t make sense. When you came out when we were seventeen, I thought, ‘yes! This is it. I’m bi and I’ve been picking up on his vibe. I waited until after high school to test this theory. That I would be into _any_ hot guy. I made out with any willing victim I could find. But it didn’t work. I wasn’t interested. I never went beyond a really weird blowjob that scarred me both physically and mentally. But I think about doing anything with you and bam!” He pointed hard at his crotch, already fully hard because he was lying in a bed next to Derek.

Derek followed his pointing almost automatically and then did a double take when he realized Stiles was well into hardcore arousal.

Before Derek could say anything, Stiles continued. “I try _everything_ to get your attention, but it never works. The other night at the bar, I thought, ‘I’m going to kiss him. I’m just going to kiss him and enjoy his taste and it will be enough. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to respond. You’ve never once shown any sign that you would welcome it, but when you kissed me back…I completely forgot my brother was in the fucking room!”

Stiles shook his head and then bounced it off of the headboard lightly. “When I came in here the other night, I was going to explain things, because one kiss _wasn’t_ enough. I needed more. But I got in here and realized I didn’t know how to say it. I wasn’t sure if I could handle getting rejected by you. But I had to kiss you again. Just to see if that crazy all over euphoria thing happened again. So when I said it was a test, I was actually testing if what I felt was real. I wasn’t testing some random gay guy to see what it was like.”

“And I completely took advantage of you.” Derek’s hollow voice matched the look in his eyes as he stared at the bedroom door.

“No! Haven’t you been listening? I took advantage of _you_! You’re a single, healthy guy and your gay. Of course you are going to say yes to some guy that is basically throwing himself at you.” But even as he said it, Stiles wondered how true that was. Derek didn’t really seem like the one-night-stand kind of guy. “I just needed to tell you so you know that, yes, I used you. But not so I know whether or not I’m gay. But so I know whether or not this craving I’ve had for you since forever, is real.”

“So,” Derek said quietly. “Did you get your answer?”

The tingly feeling in his stomach associated with adrenaline and the sting in his armpits weren’t all that pleasant, but he knew he was going to have to continue. “Yes.” His throat was dry and his voice cracked, so he looked away, trying to find a bit of composure.

“It was a fluke.” Derek’s voice was so soft, almost resigned and Stiles strained to hear him.

His heart rate picked up. More of that nervous tingling had him clutching his coffee cup a bit tighter. But licking his lips he looked directly at Derek, waiting for him to turn his head back toward Stiles before he answered. “No. It was pretty fucking amazing. And what happened after? Unbelievable. But—“

He paused, trying to gain courage for the next part.

“But?” Derek finally asked, when he he’d been waiting a good ten seconds for words Stiles was struggling to vomit out.

“But, I can’t do casual with you. Anyone else? Yeah. You? No.”

There was a long pause then. Not necessarily awkward, though Stiles did start to fidget at the end, anticipating the worst.

Derek’s voice broke the silence. “Since we were fifteen?”

Stiles laughed, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. ”Yeah.”

To say he was a little disappointed when Derek didn’t immediately respond with something along the lines of, “you’re not alone in this thing,” or “come here. I really need to fuck you through this bed,” was an understatement in the extreme. But really, what had he expected?

Maybe he _could_ do casual. Anything to get Derek’s mouth on his. Or those hands on his body.

He moaned quietly, shifting slightly in the bed.

Derek cleared his throat and Stiles’ face snapped in that direction. He expected to see the man wearily eyeing him like the perv he was. Instead, he found Derek staring down at his own lap with a small smile on his face.

“You remember the night of my sixteenth birthday? Your brother walked that girl with the huge boobs home and you and I got into a wrestling match?” He looked sideways at Stiles then, clearly trying to keep his smile under control. “I didn’t actually get a cramp. I really had a woody from hell and had to go take care of that situation.” He covered his face with his hand, mumbling into his palm. “And that wasn’t even the first of about a gazillion times I jacked it thinking of Stiles Stilinski.”

It was a couple seconds before he managed to piece that last part of the mumble together and then another couple for him to process what it all meant. And then he started laughing. Tears were running down his face before he was calm enough to actually say something intelligible.

“We might just have to count that as our first sexual experience then, because when you went into your bathroom, I hauled ass to the one down the hall! I almost got caught too! Thankfully for once my dipshit brother knocked on a closed door, because this moron forgot to lock it.”

“I can’t believe this.” Derek was shaking his head, but there was a huge grin on his face that at least spoke of a friendship that was still completely intact.

“So. Are we good?” He could only hope he didn’t sound as pathetic as he was pretty sure he did.

Derek set his cup down on the nightstand on his side of the bed and then reached over and took Stiles’ depositing it next to the first. “Stiles, we will _always_ be fine. I don’t care what anybody says. You and I will always work it out.”

Stiles found his face being captured in the hands he loved so much, and the sexiest mouth he’d ever seen pressed against his. “I don’t do random or convenient, Klyde. I don’t sleep with guys just because they climb into bed with me. Even if they have the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen and beautiful skin dotted distractingly with moles. If I hadn’t secretly been wanting you here for forever, you never would have made it through the door.” He leaned forward and kissed Stiles again. “All that flirting you do to get my attention.” He gabbed Stiles’ hand and rubbed it against Derek’s very obvious erection, through the blanket. “It’s been driving me up the fucking _walls_. Every fucking time I’m around you, you better fucking believe I’m hard as hell. Every. Fucking. Time.”

Chapter Seven

10:02 AM

Derek kissed him then, unable to hold back, because damn him, he was rubbing Derek’s cock through the blanket like it might grant him three wishes. The kiss was a little wild. Lips crashing together frantically, teeth clinking and scraping at sensitive flesh, tongues licking sloppily at each other. They were too desperate to be civilized.

Derek sat back, pulling his shirt above his head and tossing it aside before jerking Stiles across him, needing to feel the skin of the other man against his. He dug his fingers in the soft locks of Stiles’ hair and forced his head to the side so he could drive his tongue into the silky recess of the man’s mouth. He tasted like sweet coffee and Stiles, and the combination was drugging.

Stiles never stopped the slide of his palm against Derek’s cock. The pressure was building to the point of blowing, so Derek latched on to Stiles’ wrist, smiling when he tried to wrestle him for it.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Derek was breathing heavily against Stiles’ mouth. Unable to help it, he nipped at the kiss swollen lips when they brushed his, wanting to taste more of the man. “We need to slow down or you’re seriously going to be under the impression that I’m a minute man.”

“I can’t help it, Derek. I _need_ to touch you.”

Derek couldn’t fault him that need. He never wanted to touch or taste someone so bad in his life. He was practically vibrating with the need to crawl out of his own skin and inside Stiles Stilinski.

“I know, Klyde. Fuck, do I know.” He rolled them, putting Stiles on his back and poising himself over the man, so he could devour the skin at his neck. “I love the taste of you.”

He licked the man’s neck, nipped at his collarbone and then laved his tongue across a pert little brown nipple.

Stiles’ stomach muscles popped and rolled as Derek slowly made his way lower, stopping to nibble at the spot just above Stiles’ hipbone.

“I’m going to show you just how amazing it can be to get a blowjob from another man.” He suspected he was maybe growling a bit, but he had more important matters to worry about than the tone of his voice.

He latched on to the top of Stiles’ pants, looking back up his beautiful skin and perfectly sculpted abs and chest, needing an agreement.

“No teeth,” Stiles whispered, smiling. But Derek didn’t miss the excited bob of his Adam’s apple. “I was raw for a week.”

The lopsided grin and the darkened, aroused, whiskey eyes staring back at him made his stomach flip and his chest hurt. “Fuck, Klyde. You are so gorgeous.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just drug the shorts down Stiles’ legs and tossed them on the floor, leaning back to check out his handy work.

He was the most beautiful thing Derek had ever seen. Long, lean and sculpted to perfection. The only place on his entire body not sporadically dotted with sexy moles, was his engorged cock. It’s shaft slightly darker than the skin around it. The head a pulsing, aroused red.

Unable to resist the temptation any more, Derek reached out with the tip of his tongue and slowly traced the thick ridge running up the underside, moaning when all he could smell was the erotic, musk of Stiles.

“Derek! Fuck!” Stiles’ hips bucked, pressing his sensitive flesh closer and giving Derek better access to his balls.

He sucked first one and then the other into her mouth, one at a time, rolling them and wetting them and allowing his spit to slide further down.

A dirty, open-mouthed groan escaped Stiles and the man bowed forward, pressing his hips closer to Derek’s face and reaching down with both hands to caress and grip Derek’s head.

Derek smiled wryly up at the man, enjoying the look of absolute need on his face. Laving his tongue back up the shaft, he slid his fingers down the space between his balls and hole, pressing firmly against the skin there and then stopping to rub his finger around the hole.

Stiles’ stomach quivered and his pecks jumped. The tight ring beneath his fingers pulsed and Derek smiled, before pressing against the pucker. He licked the slit of Stiles’ cock, letting his tongue play inside for a moment.

Derek lifted Stiles’ cock, smacking it lightly against his lips before taking it in his mouth and sliding all the way down to the base, just as he breached Stiles’ hole to the second knuckle of his middle finger.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Klyde’s voice was guttural and hot as fuck.

Stiles fell back to the bed, his head bouncing off the headboard. He didn’t seem to notice, as he rolled it back and forth. So, Derek began sliding his hot flesh in and out of his mouth, while moving his finger deeper inside the man.

Derek groaned at the combined feeling of the flesh inside his mouth and the smooth warmth wrapped around his finger.

Could Stiles be any more perfectly made for him? Inside and out, every part of this guy fit him like he was made specifically for Derek.

He pumped his finger in and out, pressing firmly against the front of Stiles’ silky sheath, making sure to bump the sensitive gland there over and over, and swallowing Stiles’ cock every time.

“Derek! I’m going to…fuck!” He tried tugging Derek’s head away, but he just sucked harder.

Stiles exploded in his mouth, each jet of seed going directly down his throat.

He watched the man shudder and convulse above him, waiting for him to settle before he pulled of his cock with a pop that made him whimper.

Slowly, he eased out of Stiles’ hole, knowing it was probably a foreign sensation having something there.

Climbing up Stiles’ body, he stopped to kiss the man’s hip, then stomach, then nipple, then neck. He nuzzled the skin there, smiling when Stiles wrapped his arm around Derek’s shoulders and pulled his head down on his chest.

“Okay, I don’t know what you call that, but it was nothing like any blowjob I’ve ever had before. So, we need to come up with a new name for it. I’m thinking ‘heaven and hell,’ but I think that name is already taken. I’m not sure though. I’ll probably remember when you spit my brains out because I’m pretty sure you swallowed them.”

Derek laughed, leaning up to shove his tongue in Stiles’ mouth. The man was so addictive. His taste. His smell. His feel. His ridiculous humor. If it wasn’t blasphemy, he’d worship at the temple of Stiles for the rest of his life.

Stiles’ eyes were glazed when he pulled away and he licked Derek’s lips, drawing one into his mouth. “I can taste me on you. It’s fucking hot.” He licked again.

“You do taste really, _really_ good.” Derek kissed him again. Running his hands up and down chest and abs, wrapping around to stroke his back.

Stiles grabbed the sides of Derek’s face, rasping the whiskers on his chin with his teeth and then nibbling down Derek’s throat. “Can I try?”

Derek was a little distracted by the feel of Stiles’ tongue against his Adam’s apple. “Can you wha…oh!” He chuckled, closing his eyes. “Like I’m going to tell you no.”

Stiles smiled against his skin, reaching down to tug at the front of Derek’s shorts. “Lose ‘em.”

Derek acted quickly. He pushed them down passed his butt and then sat up and tossed them. When he laid down, his thick erection rested against his stomach, practically screaming for Stiles to touch it.

Stiles looked down Derek’s body and then back up again, his lips parting as he did it a second time. “Jeez Derek. You’re perfect.” His hand settled low on Derek’s stomach, an inch to the right of his begging dick. “Absolutely perfect.”

His whispered words sounded a lot like a prayer and Derek’s breath caught at the worship there. Was there even a remote possibility that Stiles felt for him even a fraction of what he felt for Stiles? His words and actions said yes, but Derek just couldn’t wrap his brain around it.

When Stiles gripped him, the pressure firm and sure, Derek hissed, fisting the sheets beside him and involuntarily lifting his hips for more. Stiles’ dick twitched back to life against Derek’s thigh, letting him know that Stiles was by no means a selfish lover. He obviously took pleasure in watching the person he was with be pleasured.

He leaned forward over Derek’s cock, looking him in the eyes as he blew a warm breath across the head. Precome oozed from the tip, coating Stiles’ fingers and the hair of Derek’s happy trail. Stiles licked it, making Derek gasp and writhe as Stiles moaned his pleasure at the taste and then blew across it again, watching him the entire time, like he was fascinated by his affect on Derek.

Smiling like he’d won a prize, Stiles swallowed him. Derek’s eyes rolled back in his head as Stiles hummed around him like he was the most delicious thing he’d ever had in his mouth. For a man who’d never done this before, Stiles took him deep and seemed to instinctively know the perfect suction and speed to keep Derek right on the verge but not allow him to blow right away.

“Fuck, Klyde! Is there anything you aren’t good at?” Derek sounded strained even to himself, but Stiles was bringing him right to the edge and then pulling back every time and Derek wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.

Deciding it was time to take over before Stiles sucked him into a coma, Derek grabbed Stiles’ hair, pulling him away from his throbbing cock and leaning up to shove his tongue between those swollen, rosy lips.

Pulling back to separate their mouths slightly, he said against Stiles’ lips. “I need to fuck you. Tell me now if that’s not okay.”

“Now that that’s on the table, I think I might stab you in your lady parts if you don’t.” Stiles’ rich, whiskey eyes were staring into Derek’s with an intensity the belied his joking words.

“Aren’t you worried? Nervous?” Derek, nipped at Stiles’ swollen lips, unable to resist the plump flesh.

“I think if it were anybody but you, I would be. But it’s you. Don’t think I haven’t fantasized about being with you in every way possible for _years_.” Stiles squeezed Derek’s cock. “And you’ll make it good. Mostly because you know what a vindictive prick I’ll be if you don’t. I know all your tickle spots.”

Derek moaned, praying he never woke up from the dream that was unfolding in his bed. He kissed Stiles deeply again, not stopping until they were both grinding against and groping each other.

Reluctantly, Derek slid away from Stiles, making a quick dash to the bathroom to grab lube and condoms. He plunked them down on the bed by his pillow and looked up and down Stiles’ body again, shaking his head.

“Tell me this is real, Stiles. Because I’m having a really hard time believing it.”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty surreal from my position too.”

Derek climbed on top of him, again kissing him until they were both writhing and dripping pre-come.

Grabbing the lube, Derek sat up between Stiles’ legs and popped the cap, coating  his middle finger and then sliding it under the man’s balls, following the line into his crease and stopping to run it against the tight ring. It pulsed against his finger and Derek tapped it twice, loving that Stiles shuddered and groaned.

He pressed against his hole, waiting for it to give before thrusting his finger deep. This time the muscles of Stiles’ ass took him all the way, seeming to already know the pleasure that was to come. Drizzling more lube down the crease, Derek added a second finger, pumping a bit rough and nudging the gland with every glide in and out.

“Oh shit! Right there.” Derek smiled as Stiles thrust his hips against the air. Scissoring his fingers, Derek purposely avoided Stiles’ sweet spot, while he prepared the man for his cock. “Derek! Don’t be a prick! Fuck! Shit!”

Derek added a third finger and leaned down to lick Stiles’ nipple. “What a mouth, Klyde.”

“Shut up and fuck me, you asshole.” Stiles’ eyes were dark with arousal and Derek paused to once again, take in the beauty that was Stiles Stilinski wound up.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, slowly sliding his fingers out of the man beneath him and reaching for the condom.

His shaking fingers weren’t doing him any favors as he worked to open and then roll the rubber over his over-sensitive prick. Stiles watched him with a small smile, probably laughing at him, but he just couldn’t take offence because he was about to get what he’d always wanted.

After a bit more lube, he grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Stiles’ hips and then put the head of his dick against the man’s hole, taking a moment to again watch Stiles’ eyes and check for uneasiness. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

That was all Derek needed. He pressed inside slowly, cussing continuously through gritted teeth as Stiles’ hot hole strangled his dick. “Fuck, Klyde. _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_.”

The searing heat, even through the condom, was almost enough to send him over, simply by gripping him. It was as if Stiles’ body was made specifically for Derek. The fit in every way was custom and perfect.

He held still, stroking Stiles’ thigh, and allowing the man to become accustomed to being filled.

“Go,” Stiles whispered, again meeting his gaze with those passion glazed light-brown eyes.

Those eyes grounded him. They reminded him that he had a very important job ahead of him. He needed to give Stiles the best orgasm of his life while simultaneously making the man fall in love with him. Because, though they both said this thing wasn’t casual, Derek didn’t have any intention of _ever_ letting him go.

He moved, slowly at first, then gradually gained speed. Tilting his hips back, while thrusting quick but controlled, he repeatedly stroked Stiles’ gland with the head of his cock. Each time, sending convulsive trimmers through the beautifully defined muscles of this amazing man’s stomach.

Stiles was gripping the headboard, using it to hold himself still as Derek’s control started slipping. He pounded into the man, unable to stop the vicious snap of his hips as he watched Stiles’ features contort into a dirty work of art.

“Stroke yourself,” Derek basically grunted at the man.

He wasn’t sure how smart that command had been when the sight of Stiles gripping his beautiful dick, timing each glide of his hand down the length with every thrust of Derek’s hips, made his balls tighten up hard.

“Oh sh…uhng…damn Derek!” Stiles’ cry was almost a bark as ribbon after ribbon of come left the head of his perfect dick to splat against his perfect abs.

That was it. “Fuck, Klyde. Fuck!” Derek threw his head back, spilling into the condom, buried deep in the man he’d always adored.

He collapsed forward, not caring that he was smearing come all over them. “Amazing.” He kissed Stiles softly, and then pulled back so he could look at the man. They watched each other for a few minutes wearing identical stupid smiles on their faces.

“So,” Stiles finally said, still smiling.

“Yeah.” Derek was a bit embarrassed about the giggle that slipped out, but he just pressed his face into Stiles’ neck.

“I’m not a butthole virgin anymore.”

There was a moment of pause, where Derek’s lips hovered a millimeter from the skin of Stiles’ neck, and then they both started laughing. This man was so much more than anyone deserved. So much more than _he_ deserved, but he knew better than to question this unbearably beautiful gift he’d been given.

His laughter turned to a groan as he realized what time it was. “I’m going to be late.”

***

Sunday 10:36 AM

“Oh, right! Sunday BBQs.” Stiles smiled brightly, holding Derek tighter even though he didn’t make a move to actually get up.

Derek never failed to miss a Sunday afternoon BBQ with the youth of the Christian Church. The church they’d all three gone to since they were in youth group themselves.

Neither of their families were much on religion, so after being invited to a lock-in by one of Derek and Scott’s football buddies, they’d all taken it upon themselves to start going to church and then later becoming involved.

“Just tell them you were fucking the brains out of your best friend’s brother,” he said reasonably. Forcing himself to keep a straight face.

Derek’s head snapped up and he glared, one lip coming up in a sneer. “Don’t mention your brother while I still have the taste of your come in my mouth.” He flopped his head back down, his mouth pressing against Stiles’ shoulder. “You know we’re going to get a lecture for missing church, right?”

Stiles laughed, causing Derek’s now soft dick to slip out of him, making him cringe a bit. “So, you’ve never been attracted to my brother?”

Derek rolled them on their sides so they could look at each other. The utterly creeped out look on his face made Stiles sigh in relief and smile, wondering where that spike of jealousy had come from.

“Um, not that Scott isn’t hot, but honestly, we’ve got more of a brother vibe going on.” Derek shuddered. “And on that note, I need a shower.”

Stiles laughed as Derek reluctantly disengaged and slowly rose from the bed. He also kept an eye on that tight ass as it moved toward the bathroom.

He’d admit, that as soon as Derek disappeared through the doorframe, he’d had a moment of panic, where he wondered if Derek would now go wash him off in the shower and then want everything to go back to normal.

Stiles knew he couldn’t do that. He’d never be able to simply be in Derek’s company now without thinking about all the ways he could jump him after he’d had Derek buried so deep inside him.

He lay there awkwardly for a moment, wondering if he should go take a shower in the other bathroom and then hide out in his bedroom and give Derek his space.

And then the man of his dreams leaned his head back out into the bedroom, frowning. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you _coming_?”

Stiles laughed, nearly rolling his eyes at himself. “Of course.”

Chapter Eight

Monday 7:15 PM

It’s amazing how a life—or two—can change so dramatically in a few days. When Klyde had randomly showed up in his kitchen on Thursday, Derek would have never guessed they would end up here.

Sunday afternoon had gone much as it always did when they both worked the youth BBQ. Lots of joking and laughter. Scott had only glared minimally at them when they arrived ten minutes late to help set up.

Derek had even managed to _almost_ forget Stiles was there when they got to work serving and playing with the kids. _Almost._

There were still the stolen glances and secret smiles they tried desperately to hide. The “accidental” brushes of chest against back as they moved around each other. Or hand against ass when reaching for something. They worked for secrecy, but he wasn’t sure how successful he’d been when he caught a couple of high school girls looking between him and Stiles and laughing behind their hands.

He sent the duo a mock glare, hoping they wouldn’t read too much into it.

Everyone knew he was gay. He’d never hidden it and refused to do so even among the more traditional believers of his church. Most everyone had accepted who he was and those that didn’t he still managed to have cordial conversations with. God said love everyone and he would. Even bigots.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how Stiles would feel about everyone thinking _he_ was gay.

After an entire afternoon of endless flirting, they’d made it back to the house and immediately fallen into bed, where they stayed until Derek had to get up for work on Monday morning.

The next ten hours had been the longest of his life. Especially when Stiles fired off some dirty text messages that had Derek hard and achy behind his desk, with no ability to focus.

At twenty-three minutes after five—a new record—Derek burst through his apartment door to find a very relaxed, very innocent looking Stiles, sitting comfortably on his couch watching _Family Guy_ with his feet propped on the coffee table.

It had been on from there. Clothes had flown in all different directions. They’d even laughed when Stiles’ boxers had draped the corner of the TV. Somehow they made it into Derek’s bed. He didn’t know what had possessed him to kick the door shut and lock it, but he was beyond glad when less than two hours later, somebody pounded hard on his bedroom door.

“Derek?” They both froze at Scott’s call, looking around manically for their clothes.

_Shit!_ “Living room,” he mouthed, wide-eyed to Stiles. “Um, yeah?” he called louder to his lover’s brother who was standing just outside his door.

“Have you seen my brother? He’s not in his room and he hasn’t been answering his phone.”

So _that_ was who had called like twenty-seven times. They’d ignored it.

Stiles buried his face in a pillow, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

Derek stood, running to his dresser and grabbing some sweats, while trying desperately not to laugh out loud. “I think he went home with some hot piece of ass.”

He laughed quietly when a pillow hit him in the side of the head while he was balancing on one foot trying to drag his sweats on. He toppled sideways, bouncing off the wall.

“What?” Scott banged on the door again. “On a Monday? What’s wrong with you? Open the door!”

“I’m not decent.” He jammed his other foot into the sweats, but missed the foot-hole and ended up tripping all the way to the bed. “Shut up,” he whispered while Stiles rolled across the bed laughing and holding his stomach while tears rolled out of his eyes.

There was a pause from outside his door. “Wait. Do you have somebody in there? Is that why there are clothes strung all over the living room? I just thought you and Stiles were huge pigs.” He laughed, but Derek heard him move away from the door.

He was probably a little shocked that Derek was with somebody. In all the years that they’d known each other, Derek had never brought a man around Scott. In fact, his limited sexual encounters usually ended at the other guy’s house. He’d just never really wanted that side of his life close to his friends. Because those two hour relationships were never worthy of his friends.

“Is he leaving?” Stiles whispered as they both tilted their head toward the door, listening for a sign of what Scott was doing.

Suddenly, the sound of Stiles’ signature ringtone for his brother—the giggling laughter of a little girl—filled the quiet of the apartment.

Derek froze, his eyes wide. “Maybe he doesn’t realize what it means.”

“He’s awfully quiet in—“

A stream of cusswords flowed from the living room, making them both cringe.

“There it is.” Stiles flopped back on the bed, pulling the covers over his head.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” From the sound of it, Scott had moved back to the door, growling through it.

Stiles laughed, peeking one eye out of the covers. “One last kiss before he kills us.” Reaching up, he snagged the back of Derek’s head and laughingly dragged him down for a heated kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, Derek groaned, resting his head against Stiles’. “Damn it, Klyde. You can’t hide an erection in sweats!”

“Please, please, please tell me my brother is not naked in that room and you are not the ‘hot piece of ass’ he went home with!”

Derek finally got up and went to open the door, cringing slightly as he looked at his lover’s brother—his best friend. “Technically, he was here when I got home.”

Scott stumbled against the doorframe as his eyes swept the room, landing first on Derek and then on his brother. “Oh my God! I’m going to pass out.”

Derek grabbed the dramatic idiot, dragging him over to the bed and sitting him on the edge. He settled there for a moment, his face falling to his hand, but suddenly he jumped up, spinning to glare at them. “I don’t want to sit on your sex bed!” He started pacing. “This is a dream. A really, _really_ bad dream.” Pointing at Stiles, he said, “You were there.” Then to Derek. “And you. And you were _fucking_!”

Derek couldn’t’ help but laugh. He both loved and hated when his friend got like this. He was ridiculous and dramatic and just plain funny.

Stiles must have thought so too, because he laughed. “Calm down, Scotty.”

But he didn’t. “You’re gay?! Since when?”

Stiles shrugged. “I’m not gay. I’m bi? Derek-curious?”

Scott narrowed his eyes on his brother. “And what happens when you leave? When you decide you’re no longer Derek-curious? What if Derek falls in love with you?” They both sighed, knowing Scott was gearing up for one of his non-stop, barely breathing rants. “You’re just going to leave him here with a broken heart! And then I’m going to have to comfort him and then I’m going to spend so much time taking care of him, Allison’s going to leave me and then _this_ asshole is going to hate me because I’m related to you.”

Collapsing back on the bed, Scott threw his arms over his head dramatically, making Derek and Stiles laugh as they looked at each other and mouthed, “spaz.”

He wouldn’t lie. A few of Scott’s points were dead on with the worry that was rolling around in Derek’s head.

Because he was already in love with Stiles.

After a quiet moment, Stiles sighed. “I’ve always been Derek-curious, Scotty.”

Scott’s arms flailed. “What?! How long has all this been going on? I just assumed this was new, but now that I think about it, you guys have always been especially close. Have you been fucking behind my back all these years?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, smiling fondly at his ridiculous brother. “Bro, if you don’t calm down, you are going to need blood pressure meds at twenty-seven. No, we have not been fucking behind your back for years. Not to mention that you are not in a romantic relationship with either of us, so it’s not like we’d be stepping out on you anyway.” He laughs softly. “Plus, you were there when it all started. That kiss at the bar when you turned me down.”

Glaring at his brother, Scott turned to Derek. Maybe expecting actual answers from that direction. “What’s going on for real?”

“We aren’t sure yet. But just so you know, when Klyde breaks my heart, I’m running to Allison for comfort.”

“Um, you mean when you break _my_ heart,” Stiles said. “ _I’ll_ run to Allison, so I can cry into those beautiful, perky… _shoulders_.” He waggled his eyebrows at Scott, making his brother glare. “That woman’s shoulders are _amazing_.”

Derek held up a finger. “First: obviously you’re going to break _my_ heart, because you are way prettier and you travel the world taking pictures of naked people. And second: even as a gay man, I can appreciate the beauty of Allison’s… _shoulders_.”

Scott glared at them both. “Leave my wife’s beautiful shoulders out of this.

Stiles sneered at Derek. “It was an aboriginal tribe! They don’t wear clothes as a culture. And I call bullshit. You are way hotter than me and you are hung like a freak of nature! I should take pictures of _that_!”

“Um…what about me?”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know, Scott. I haven’t seen your dick in years.”

Derek nodded. “Me either.”

“Nobody is telling me how hot _I_ am!” If the man would have been standing, he probably would have stomped his foot.

Derek reached out and ruffled Scott’s head, laughing when the man smacked his hand. “Oh baby, we’re sorry.”

Stiles scooted down in the bed, keeping his naked body under the covers, but getting level with his brother. “Derek was just telling me how hot you were, yesterday.”

Nodding, Derek also moved himself down the bed so that they were all lined up with Scott in the middle. “I was.”

Derek took a moment to enjoy what had always been special about the three of them. He might not know what was going to happen now between him and Stiles, but he prayed that nothing about _this_ changed. He just didn’t think he could live without these two idiots in his life.

He snuggled in closer to Scott and Stiles followed suit. And even though the man in the middle kept his arms crossed over his chest in an angry, unwelcoming manner, they all knew the big puppy was with them on this.

“You _do_ realize there is an actual problem here, right?” Scott glanced over at Stiles and Derek got the impression he was warning his brother. “You travel a lot.”

Derek put his cheek on Scott’s shoulder. “Hush, Spaz,” he whispered softly.

“One day at a time bro.” Stiles threw an arm across Scott’s stomach and leaned up to smile at Derek, giving him a wink.

“Scott?” Allison’s voice filled the apartment and Derek smiled.

“In here Allison.” Her husband answered, laughing slightly.

She entered the room cautiously, first her head and then her body. Her eyes swept them as they lie there and an eyebrow rose slowly. “Oh my! Three hot guys in one bed.” She threw her head back in praise. “I knew God loved me!”

Scott opened his arms to her and she climbed in, her body falling between his legs and her head resting on his chest.

Derek smiled contently and met Stiles’ beautiful brown eyes again. The three people he adored most in this whole world were snuggled up safely in his bed. He honestly couldn’t ask for more.

And like they’d told Scott. They would just take this whole thing a day at a time. So what if he was already completely in love with Stiles Stilinski? So what if he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to _not_ want the man now that he’d had him. He would do _anything_ including hiding his feelings from the person he loved more than anything in the whole world, if it meant the man would continue to be in his life.

Chapter Nine

Tuesday 1:16 PM

That sentiment was put to the test the following day, when a very late Derek stopped in his favorite diner to grab a quick lunch so he could head back to the office and possibly get a little work done.

His plan to put off for Tuesday what he hadn’t felt like dealing with on Monday would have been fine, if he hadn’t laid too long in the arms of the most amazingly sexy human being on the face of the planet and basically kissed away an entire hour.

After finally rising from bed satiated and happy, he’d missed his window to actually get some deskwork done before he started and endless lineup of morning meetings.

Now he was running on an empty stomach and was going to have to grab something to go, or he’d be behind all week.

He didn’t bother looking around the establishment as he entered. He had to text his secretary and make sure the three files he needed to work on where sitting on his desk ready for him by the time he got back in, so he could finish quickly and hurry home to see Stiles.

When the text was complete and he was next in line to order, Derek finally allowed his eyes to travel the room. He smiled at the patrons who glanced up to meet his gaze, happier than he’d been in a long time.

Even with the very possibility that Stiles was a mere phone call away from zooming off to the next big shoot looming in the background of his mind, all Derek could think about was the idea of forever.

His smile died immediately, and his heart started to pound dangerously in his chest. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. What were the odds that his favorite diner in the whole world would be the place his heart shattered?

Stiles was sitting in the booth closest to the North wall. For a split second, Derek had been elated. Stiles’ golden-brown, glossy hair had fallen across his forehead and his smooth, pale skin was practically glowing in the sunlight shining through the blinds at his table.

As usual, he was perfect…and currently had a beautiful redhead practically in his lap. Stiles was pressed against the corner of the booth, his back to the wall and a voluptuous Lucy Ricardo was running her hand up and down his chest and pressing her boobs into his arm.

And he was smiling.

Up until this point in his life, Derek had been fortunate enough that this particular scene had never happened to him. Hell, he’d never been in a relationship, period. So, he’d never really pondered how he would react if he caught his significant other being groped by someone else.

Not that Stiles was technically his significant other, but he was pretty sure they’d made it clear to each other that this was more than some casual affair. Had he been wrong in assuming that they were more than just fuck buddies?

Now, he knew how he would react if the world suddenly dropped out from under him and his guts felt like they was spilling out all over the floor around him.

He turned abruptly, wanting to get out of the establishment before Stiles saw him and away from the whole thing. He needed to process the situation and he’d be damned if he’d do it while Stiles and his lap monkey could see just how much the whole thing was killing him inside.

Derek was surprised to find that he didn’t want to talk to Scott or Allison about this. It just felt too personal. Too raw. He wanted to talk to Stiles. Stiles would know all the right things to say to piece together the mutilated remains of Derek’s heart. Stiles alone would know just how to make him smile when all he wanted to do was cry.

He went straight home, texting his secretary and claiming stomach virus. It wasn’t much off. His stomach was a twisted mess. The once urgent feeling of being hungry gone completely, conceding graciously to the feeling of being hollowed out by a melon scoop. He locked himself inside his bedroom and hoped he could pull himself together before Stiles got home, but his chances seemed bleak when the click of the lock made him cry for the first time since his Uncle Peter who had helped raise him passed away when he was nineteen.

When an actual sob wrenched free of his chest, Derek collapsed on the floor, his back bracing against the door with a thunk.

The worst part was how this one act completely challenged anything he ever thought he knew about the man he was in love with. Stiles had never, _never_ been disloyal to him. Or anyone, really. The man was basically a walking ad for how to treat the people you cared about. Sure, he messed with Scott and Derek and even Allison, but they never doubted that he would be there for them if they were ever in need. They never doubted that he would have their back no matter what. Even if they were in the wrong.

So, the very idea that Stiles would even be _thinking_ about dating someone else, while he was in an intimate relationship with Derek, was absolutely unthinkable.

And yet, there was no denying that he’d seen the man smiling down at the handsy redhead, while she molded against him like his favorite shirt. The very shirt that was lying in a heap next to Derek’s bed, where Stiles had dropped it at some point over the last few days.

Climbing limply to his feet, he walked over and scooped the shirt up, bringing it to his nose and taking in the erotic and beautiful scent that was Stiles Stilinski, and then he flopped on the bed, holding the shirt to his chest and letting the tears leak out of the corner of his eyes.

***

Tuesday 3:47 PM

Stiles chose not to acknowledge the ridiculous half-squeal that actually left his throat when he noticed Derek’s car was already parked out front of his apartment complex, indicating he’d come home early from work. Best to pretend that had been the seven year-old little girl sitting on the bottom step of the staircase.

That didn’t stop him from taking the steps three at a time and nearly body-checking Derek’s elderly neighbor, Mrs. Waters.

Nothing could ruin this day. He’d woken up with Derek for the forth morning in a row. He’d enjoyed the intimacy of watching Derek get ready for work after a round of mutual masturbation. And he’d finally accepted a photography position that would have him settled back in his hometown and close to the people he adored. Now, his lover was home early and he didn’t have to wait another hour and a half to tell him the good news and have celebratory sex!

At first he didn’t understand what was happening when he tried to twist the knob to Derek’s bedroom door and it wouldn’t budge. He tried again, laughing a little at himself for being too excited to twist a freaking doorknob. But it still didn’t turn.

Confused, he frowned at the door. “Derek? You in there?”

“What?” Derek barked, his voice sounding muffled.

“The door’s locked. Let me in.” He was still smiling, slightly, but he couldn’t deny that his stomach gave a strange flip at being shut out.

“Go away, Stiles.” More muffled, almost irritated words.

Stiles’ heart dropped out and crashed somewhere near his feet. “What? Why?”

Nothing but a strange moan and rustling came from the other side of the door and Stiles actually had to reach up and clutch at the muscle and bones covering the empty hole in his chest. “Derek?” His throat was dry and the name came out as a horse whisper. “Is…someone in there…with you?”

More rustling and Stiles’ hands when cold as he imagined Derek rolling around on his bed with some other man.

It couldn’t be, though. This was _Derek_. The man was strength and honor and perfection. He was what every man strived to become and what every straight woman and gay man wanted in a mate. Hell, he was apparently what some men with undecided sexual orientation wanted in a mate. He was forever if there ever was a human who personified the word.

Just as a confused tear leaked from his eye, the door to Derek’s room swung open. He stood there, glaring at Stiles through angry, puffy eyes, still dressed in his button-down light blue shirt and charcoal slacks, both crumpled where it looked like he’d been lying in bed.

He watched in disbelief as Derek’s eyes filled with tears. Tears his swollen eyes told him weren’t the first he’d shed today. And Stiles felt another tear roll down his own face.

“Did you really just ask me that?” Derek’s voice was gruff and tight as he fought down whatever emotion was lodged in his throat. “I know we never said it, but I was pretty sure we had an understanding. So, for you to assume I would just go grab some random and bring him home after I’ve spent the last three days fucking you, makes me wonder just what you think of me. I don’t fuck around on people.”

Stiles flinched, feeling somehow shorter than the man before him. “You locked me out,” he whispered, feeling defeated. “You never lock me out.”

Another tear rolled down his face and Derek watched it, the anger on his face evaporating. He moved forward, pressing his face into Stiles’ neck and squeezing him to him. “Who was she?”

He sounded broken. Something Stiles would have never thought he’d ever associate with the man that—in Stiles’ mind—was the epitome of strength.

Stiles tried to pull back so he could look at Derek’s beautiful face, but Derek held on hard and he could feel the wetness of the tears that finally spilled from Derek’s eyes wet the fabric at Stiles’ shoulder.

He pressed the side of his face against Derek’s silky black hair and breathed in the man that he loved while sliding his trapped arms around Derek’s waist and melting into the hurt man before him.

“She who?” he asked gruffly. Did Derek think he’d been cheating?

“The one I saw you with at lunch. The one whose hands were all over what is mine.”

Stiles jerked. “Camille Henderson?” Derek had seen them?

He should be offended that Derek was now accusing him of the very thing he’d been pissed at Stiles for accusing _him_ of. But he had no doubt in his mind that if Derek had seen the way that woman had greeted him when she’d first arrived at the diner, crowding him into the corner and running her hands all over his chest and thigh, he probably had a right to think that.

That woman’s hands had been _everywhere_. And though it had been funny at first, it had only taken about thirty seconds for it to go from funny to completely uncomfortable.

“I didn’t get her name. How careless of me,” Derek said snidely into his neck. “Next time I’ll be sure to stop and ask the bitch her name while she’d rubbing her tits all over your arm.”

A laugh bubbled out of Stiles’ chest. “You were jealous?”

Derek jerked back, glaring into Stiles’ face. “Why is this funny?”

“Because.” Stiles closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “Two minutes ago, I thought the world was crumbling down around me.”

“Yeah?” Derek sounded pissed again and he gave Stiles a quick shove away from him. “Well, I’ve felt like that for hours.”

His head snapped in Derek’s direction and he reached for the man again, but Derek jerked out of the way.

“She’s the director of photography for one of the local magazines,” he said quickly, not wanting Derek to walk away. “She’s been trying to get me to come work for her for a while, but I’ve never really had any reason to settle in, so I kept putting her off. Until today.” He paused, smiling softly at Derek when the man met his gaze with confused, green eyes. “And yes. She’s very handsy, but after suffering an uncomfortable groping, I deposited her on _her_ side of the booth and explained to her that I am very much in love with somebody else.”

Derek’s eyes widened, and slowly, a gorgeous smile slid onto his face, lifting first one corner of his delicious mouth and then the other. “So, you weren’t on a date?”

Stiles shook his head, his heart lifting as he watched Derek’s sadness evaporate.

“And you’re staying here?”

“And…” Derek left it hanging, obviously not quite sure whether or not to believe his final conclusion.

“And, I love you.” Stiles had never been one to beat around the bush, but even so, he couldn’t deny the nervous butterflies flitting around when he made that declaration.

If he thought his arms had been trapped at his sides by Derek’s arms before. It didn’t even come close to the way Derek crushed him, now. He couldn’t quite suck in a breath and he was concerned a vessel might break in his head, but he couldn’t care less.

“Shit, Klyde.” Derek sounded on the verge of sobbing. “I love you too. Like _really_ love you.”

Stiles laughed happily into the man’s mouth as Derek’s lips crushed his. It was so much. Too much. More than he ever thought was possible or had ever allowed himself to hope for.

The kiss turned greedy quickly. He wasn’t sure who changed it. He just knew, one moment he was laughing, the next, he was moaning, his cock filling so fast it was almost painful. He ground himself against Derek, and they stumbled to the bed, falling with Stiles on top.

Derek broke the kiss, his breath flirting playfully with the hair falling down around Stiles’ face as he breathed in and out. “I want you to fuck me, Klyde. Right. Now.”

Stiles’ whole body pulsed at the idea of being inside the man he loved. Precome trickled out of the head of his dick, wetting the front of his boxers inside his jeans. “Are you sure?” At Derek’s nod, Stiles moaned, pressing his nose to his lover’s neck. “Shit. Okay. I can do that. I might need a bit of instruction, though.”

Derek chuckled, rolling his hips so that their hard flesh ground together deliciously. “Clothes. First step is getting rid of our clothes.”

Stiles nipped at the skin of Derek’s neck. “Har, har, asshole.” He smiled down into the face of Derek Hale. Un-fucking-believable. “Now strip. I’m dying to tap dat ass.”

Derek laughed, shoving Stiles off of him and rolling to his feet. “Well, when you put it so romantically, a girl can’t help but comply.”

Stiles got to his feet too, stripping his shirt and watching as Derek did the same, before crowding into his space and pressing their bare chests together. He grabbed the other man’s face hard, his fingers threading through the glossy hair on both sides of Derek’s head. “I love you. I love you so much, saying ‘I love you’ doesn’t seem like enough of a sentiment to convey to you what I feel.”

There was awe in Derek’s eyes as he stared into Stiles’ face. “I can’t believe this is real. Doesn’t this seem like it’s going extremely fast?”

“Not really when you think about it. We’ve always known pretty much everything about each other for forever. We’ve been slowly falling in love for over a decade.”

Derek laughed, nodding in Stiles’ hands. “In that case we should get married right away.”

Stiles’ mouth parted and his stomach flipped. “You’re joking,” he whispered. “But _I_ honestly think we should.”

Derek’s eyes widened and a smile so amazing it actually made Stiles’ stomach convulse with need, spread across Derek’s face. “Call Allison. Tell her to get her beautiful shoulders over here so we can plan a fucking wedding!”

“You are such a romantic.”

“That’s true. You really don’t deserve me.”

Stiles smashed his mouth to Derek’s needing to taste his so much his body was vibrating. “Before we call Allison, and worse, my brother, let’s get you nice and fucked,” he said when they finally broke apart.

“Good idea. Take the edge off so I’m not completely molesting you in front of your brother.” He smiled, dropping his pants. “We’ll save that for Thanksgiving.”

They were both naked in a matter of seconds, and then they were slamming back together, all hands and lips and tongues.

Stiles rolled a condom on, trying to battle the butterflies in his stomach. It was odd that he was more nervous about taking Derek than he had been about being taken by him. But he knew that was because he never doubted that Derek would take care of him, while he was terrified he was going to get inside that amazing body and be unable to control himself.

Derek spread his legs, pulling his knees up and planting his feet against the mattress. “You can do this, Klyde. Just do what I always do to you. Remember what feels good to you. I guarantee it will feel good to me too.”

His light, olive skin glowed in the light shining through the window.

Stiles sighed happily and coated his fingers with lube. Would he ever get used to the beauty of this man? What had he done to deserve this moment?

He tested Derek’s ring experimentally, running his finger around it several times before pressing against it. When the muscles gave, he moaned at the smooth heat that engulfed him all the way to his second knuckle.

“Damn, Derek. You feel so amazing.” Too amazing. He shivered, his dick pulsing so hard, his hips actually rolled forward, trying to get friction but finding no purchase in the air.

Derek reached up, grabbing Stiles’ face. “What’s wrong, Klyde?”

He hadn’t realized that he’d frozen in place until Derek touched him. His eyes snapped to the green ones in front of him. “I’m scared, Der.”

Derek’s eyes widened, but he smiled softly, even as Stiles could see a bit of hurt in his expression. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, Klyde. I swear. We can take it as slow as you want. It would absolutely _kill_ me if you had regrets in a month and left me completely.”

Stiles frowned, confused. What the hell was he talking about? And then it hit him. He smiled, rolling his eyes. “Not about marrying you, jackass. Fucking you. I want to be inside you so bad, I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

Derek laughed, looking a bit stunned, and then fell back on the bed, sighing. “You won’t.” And then he pressed himself further onto Stiles’ finger. “Trust me. You’re going to make me come so hard.”

Stiles took a deep breath, moving his finger in and out before adding another. He scissored the digits, biting his lip at both, the feel of Derek’s tight heat and the way the man responded to the internal massage.

Remembering how he always felt when Derek was prepping him, Stiles watched the man’s squirming increase exponentially when he rubbed the pads of his fingers hard against the front wall of Derek’s canal, brushing that magic spot over and over.

Removing his fingers, he drenched his condom-covered cock in lube and pressed the tip against Derek’s hole, taking a deep breath to calm himself before slowly sliding inside.

The slightly high-pitched whine/groan that slipped out of his mouth could have been a _bit_ manlier, but he was too far gone in the absolute pleasure that was Derek’s body hugging his cock so perfectly.

He managed to keep control for the first several thrusts, but soon he was pounding into Derek with desperate force, his hips snapping fast and hard and almost uncoordinatedly.

Derek lifted his ass, changing the angle so that Stiles was pushing up into him, probably drilling that special spot with every pump, while Derek stroked himself beautifully, driving Stiles that much closer to the edge.

When Derek went off, coating the sexy divots between the muscles of his perfect chest and abs, Stiles blew hard, filling the condom to its limit, before collapsing on his gorgeous friend with a happy sigh.

“Shit,” he whispered in Derek’s neck.

“Yeah.”

He slid out slowly, holding the condom. “We are getting tested as soon as possible. I can’t wait to feel _you_.” He tossed the condom and then climbed back on the bed, snuggling into his lover, lying on his side with his head on Derek’s chest, while sliding his legs under the other man’s.

“Agreed.” Derek took a deep breath. “Are you sure about all of this? I mean, being with and marrying a guy? That’s a lot of _huge_ steps all at once.”

“First,” Stiles said, kissing Derek’s chest. “Men are _way_ less drama, so I won’t be missing that. I couldn’t call some chick a jackass and not be risking my balls. Especially if we were in the middle of having sex. Second: If you love someone so much you can’t breathe when you think about them, what does their gender matter. I love _you_! I’ve never felt for _anyone_ what I feel for you. And third: You know I’ve never been scared by change.”

“So, you’re going to move in with me now, right?” Stiles reveled in the hopeful tone of Derek’s voice.

“If you think I can spend even one night without you next to me, you completely underestimate how addicted I am to you.” He paused, laughing and squeezing Derek until he grunted. “It’s a good thing you asked, though, because I was just going to move in anyway.”

Epilogue

Saturday 6:52 PM

Six weeks and four days later.

Derek smiled ridiculously at his husband. His _husband_! They’d been officially married a whole thirty-two minutes and Derek was so ready to start the honeymoon, he had to keep adjusting himself discretely in his formal wear.

They’d both decided to go with white tuxes with lavender undershirts and no ties. Derek didn’t much care how _he_ looked, but Klyde looked like he needed to take that fucking suit off so Derek could fuck him against the wall in the bathroom. He also looked like some of these wedding guests better put their damn eyes in their head because the man was taken now. They had matching rings to prove it.

“Allison,” Stiles said, spinning in a circle to take in the beautiful ballroom and it’s surprisingly somewhat masculine décor. “I can’t believe you managed all this in such a short amount of time.

She laughed, her pretty face glowing. “Are you kidding? Planning a wedding for two very guyish guys is a cakewalk. And thanks for not harassing the photographer.”

“Much. I didn’t harass him much,” Stiles mumbled, which was a big fat lie, really.

“You’re quoted as saying, ‘that’s the filter you’re going to use, really?’ And that was before you snatched the camera out of his hand and started snapping pictures of the cake. I think we’re lucky you didn’t end up with a telephoto lens where only I should ever go.”

“I wanted to get a wide angle shot of the cake from the top!”

Derek grabbed his gorgeous husband, pulling him in close so he could kiss the mouth he was dying to have around his cock. “When can we bale and start the honeymoon?”

“At least wait until after Scott gets drunk and tries to break dance.” Allison laughed, grabbing them both by their forearms. “It’s not a real wedding until the man attempts a head spin and manages to step on his own face.”

Derek groaned, remembering that awful incident. He still didn’t know how Scott had actually managed to trip on his own face, but they had video from three different angles to prove it. “At least it was his face on your wedding night. When his cousin Mel got married, he did the splits.”

Stiles made a face, grabbing Scott’s shoulder as he walked up to join them. “Yeah, he pulled his groin and couldn’t walk right for a week.”

Derek cringed down into Allison’s horrified face. “Your wedding night could have been a lot different.”

“Har, har, har.” Scott grabbed Allison’s hand, pulling her into his chest. “Can I steal my wife away from you assholes for a dance, please?”

Stiles dragged them both in for a hug and Derek joined him, sandwiching the couple between them. “You look beautiful, Allison.” Stiles said, kissing the woman on the cheek. “Your shoulders look especially nice tonight.”

She laughed, smacking him on the shoulder when he commenced with the mock leering.

“Stop looking at my wife’s shoulders, you perv!” Scott pressed his elbow hard against Stiles’ chest. “You’re married now!”

Derek kissed first Allison on the cheek and then Scott, letting them go with a laugh when his friend growled and started dragging Allison toward the dance floor. “I really can’t fault him for admiring such perfect shoulders, Spaz. Beauty is beauty.”

For that he earned a finger from his _second_ best friend, making him laugh.

Turning to Stiles, he pulled him back into his arms and pressed his mouth to the other man’s neck.

Stiles sighed. “And it helps that I’m crazy in love with my husband.”

“Yeah? I bet you love him almost as much as he loves you.”

Their mouths came together then. No preamble, just slick tongues dancing together erotically. Within seconds they were both basically dry humping in the middle of the ballroom.

Stiles pulled back, resting his forehead against Derek’s and sighing in frustration. “How much longer until my brother drops it like it’s hot and we can sneak off to fuck in the limo?”

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! Aside from the fact that I feel like the characters are more a reflection on Dylan and Tyler's personalities rather than Derek and Stiles, I feel pretty okay about it :)


End file.
